


The Reason

by Sam_Haine



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blackouts, Caretaking, Child Abuse, Concussions, Friendship/Love, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, M/M, Nosebleed, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 05:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 55,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Haine/pseuds/Sam_Haine
Summary: After the showdown at the Byers house, Steve is left a broken, concussed mess. Billy is left regretting ever being born after he hears what Steve's going through because of him. But what can he do?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another one. Geez, Harringrove's got a hold on me. The semester has started so I'm busy as of yesterday. BUT, I shall try to update as early as I can. I just love the dynamic between Billy and Steve.

The Reason

 

Steve wasn't sure if the knocking he heard was in his own head, or on the front door downstairs. 

He narrowed his watery eyes tiredly, holding his head in his hands as he laid there on the bed. It had been days since his encounters with Dustin's coveted demodogs and one Billy fucking Hargrove. And from the pain currently reverberating in his cranium like a fucking live wire, Steve believed that he'd stood a better chance against the slimy bloodsucking monsters of the Upside Down than he did with Hargrove. His eyes were swollen and bruised, his nose bled and his left cheek sported a minor fracture. Those were just the warm ups though; the worst of his injuries came from the thick, ceramic plate Billy had slammed into the side of his head. The impact had caused him a concussion that he hadn't been aware of until his parent's doctor diagnosed him a few days after the incident. 

"You must've fallen down two flights of stairs then Steven, for a concussion this bad." Dr Herald quips, eyeing him suspiciously as Steve sat there, dejected on his bed while his mother fawned over him, not a single tear in her eye; his father was away at a conference. The man's voice sounded caustic and accusing... as if Steve was lying- which he totally was. It wasn't to protect Billy though; he just didn't want his mother asking too much about that night. He was still under government oath. So instead, he just shook his head, and then grimaced at how nauseated the movement made him.

"I slipped, it was an accident." He murmurs thickly, feeling his vision start to blur again, sight going in and out of focus like a video camera. 

"And the black eyes and busted lip?" Herald pushes but Steve whimpers softly, feeling himself slipping into unconsciousness. His stomach turns and he feels hot tears slip down his cheeks. Dr Herald's patient hands are suddenly on his shoulders, calming him, whispering gently to him to take deep breaths. He can hear his mother's squeaky voice next to him.

"Oh George! How bad is it?" She inquires though it sounds more like an impatient whine. 

Herald sighs.

"It's a severe concussion, or what we like to call, a grade three concussion. That means he'll be slipping in and out of consciousness from time to time, he'll have a hard time coordinating his movement and reflexes and his vision will be hampered for at least four days. The nausea is also a part of it, so expect some vomiting and he'll experience some harsh migraines from time to time. If that happens, give him the pills I prescribed; they'll help with the pain." 

It was only when she heard all of the uglies about his concussion that Judy Harrington started to tear up, like a dramatic beauty queen at a show. Herald looked slightly affected by her outburst but Steve ignored her- knowing that the only thing she was so emotional about, was the fact that she'd have to take care of her temporary, vegetable of a son and be an actual mother for once. 

"And what about the bleeding?" She sniffles, gesturing towards his nose. 

"Well, the one good thing that came out of the reports from the headscans is that there is no internal bleeding. He's just experiencing some minor nosebleeds from the fractured cartilage in the bridge of his nose. That should heal within two days." Herald informs her in a lighter tone. Steve feels his brain throb a little and he sinks further into his pillows, feeling the man's warm hand on his coldsweating forehead. He hears the doctor and his mother bit their voices are slowly fading away, like some kind of dream. 

The fleeting sensation remains there when he jolts awake again and suddenly he's alone. His room is dark, all the blinds drawn, the air conditioning on full blast. He distantly recalls Herald saying something about warm, stuffy weather not being good for him. His door is slightly ajar and he can hear sounds coming from downstairs. 

Did his Dad make it back? 

He goes to sit up and gasps out in pain as a sharp throb erupts at the base of his skull, right where his head had smacked into the floor of the Byers' house- when Billy had tossed him across the room. A wave of nausea hits him again and he blacks out momentarily. His eyes blink fast, watering as they stare blindly around the dark room. 

"Mom-" He groans out and his voice sounds thick and muffled in his own ear. 

He'd probably screamed it out though because he hears frantic footsteps and suddenly his mother bursts into the room, the sound of his door banging on the wall as it's flung open making him cringe. She's all over him in a second.

"Hey sweetie, what's wrong? Do you need me to call Dr Herald? Are you getting migraines again?" 

He feels her soft, manicured hands on the back of his sweaty neck, stroking gently, as if he's a kitten or something. It feels incredibly comforting however, so he doesn't stop her. His eyes water again at how weird it feels for his mother to be taking care of him after years of neglect. Jesus, did it really take a semi-near-death experience to make her realize he still needed love and attention from both her and his father, even though he was seventeen years old? He wants to hate her for it but in that moment, he doesn't have the energy. 

"I'm sorry- ...was just... just woke up. Didn't know where I was... for a minute." He rasps, making grabby hands at the glass of water on his bedside table. She quickly picks it up and holds it to his lips as his coordination was still poor. His grip wasn't strong and she didn't want him spilling water on himself or the sheets. After he takes two small gulps, she replaces the glass on the table and strokes his hair in that motherly way he's seen Mrs Wheeler do to Nancy and Mike. His heart does a little happy dance and he closes his eyes, a blissful smile in his face. 

"Oh, it's okay sweetie, I'm right here." She reassures him in a soothing voice, brushing some sweaty locks out of his eyes. He sighs and lies back down on his flattened pillows. 

"Feels nice. Having you home for once." He says softly, not meaning to sound so crass but it's just how the words tumbled out of his stupid mouth. 

"M'sorry."

She shushes him gently and shakes her head, pulling his covers over him when he starts shivering. 

"No, you're right. Your father and I are always so caught up with work and the company... that we forget that we have a responsibility to you. And I'm sorry for that Steve-"

"Mom, it's okay-"

"No, it's not. But I promise you, when your father gets back, we're going to stay home and be here for you. You won't be on your own again. Okay sweetie? How does that sound?" 

Steve finds himself smiling brightly, despite his closed eyes and he snuggles deeper down into his pillow, nodding slightly.

"Sounds good." He murmurs and he hears her chuckle fondly at him. It's pure and sounds like the mother he once knew. His heart grows ten times lighter at the thought.

"The school called today." She says lightly and Steve rolls his eyes. 

"Principal Cooper wanted to know how you were doing. He says everyone wishes you a quick recovery. And he's sending help for me."

Steve frowns, cracking one eye open to stare at her. 

"Help?"

She nods, amused.

"Yes, he knows that your father is out of town and so he's asked for a volunteer from school to help me take care of you."

 

"Mom." He groans with embarrassment but she cuts him off. 

 

"I know it's awkward but to be honest, I could use some help around here. Someone to make the groceries and get your medicine while I stay here and take care of you. And when I have to go pay the bills or talk to Dr Herald, someone can be here, watching you and making sure you're alright." 

Steve pouts at her childishly, frowning down at his fingers that are distractedly having a thumb war by themselves. Left thumb's winning. 

"Fine." He finally concedes, wincing as his head throbs twice. He's stressed. His head always hurts when he's stressed now. He sighs, fed up with being so useless.

"Did Cooper say who the volunteer was?" 

Judy shakes her head.

"Nope. Only that he was coming over later this evening, after school." 

"He?" Steve gripes petulantly, his mother smirking at him sympathetically as she pats his knee.

"Well, I'm sure parents weren't going to send their daughters over that's for sure." She jokes teasingly as a bright blush adorns his face. 

"Ugh, mom you didn't have to go there." 

Her laughter is the last thing he hears before he goes under again.

 

..............

"Stevie. Hey, sweetie, wake up." 

Steve drowsily blinks open his eyes, a soft groan coming from his throat as he winces at the harsh light in his room; his mother had turned on the bedside lamp. He yawns and then clears his throat.

"What is it Mom?" He says and his voice is a dry squeak. He's been sleeping all evening; the alarm clock says 5:47PM. 

"Its time to eat and then take the pills Dr Herald gave you. Oh, and the volunteer's here!" She informs him excitedly, helping him sit up, folding his blanket just over his waist. 

"Actually, he's been here since four o' clock on the dot but I told him you needed rest." 

Steve grimaces, rubbing his tummy as it starts grumbling. 

"So they did send a guy." He jokes mirthlessly. 

Judy chuckles, refilling his glass with room temperature water. 

"He says he plays basketball with you. I didn't know much of your friends but it's really nice of him to volunteer to help us out." She comments distractedly, making sure he's comfortable; fluffing up his pillows and straightening out his blankets and sheets. Steve freezes.

Basketball? 

Everyone on that team was a jock with a forced ego and asshole marked down as their special talent. Who the hell would volunteer to help him? His mind flashed to Tommy and Ryan Gulak; guys he used to be good friends with but he hadn't spoken to ever since he'd abdicated his role as King Steve of Hawkins High. Maybe it was Beck- he was relatively new to the team and had kept away from the idiotic jocks like Tommy and the rest. Steve had no idea.

"I've got chicken soup on the stove. Just gotta check on it. I'll send him up- he's got some assignments from your teachers for you." Judy says, her voice breaking him out of his reverie. 

 

He nods absently and watches her leave his room, his open door now a menacing threat as it stays open wide... like the jaws of a great beast. Only, he wasn't afraid of being swallowed up by it; it was more like what was about to come out of it. He hears heavy footsteps and gulps, his vision blurring a bit. He sees a shadow slither onto the wall of the corridor just outside his room and his heart stops. 

He knows the dark boots that step meekly past the threshold into his room. And the proper blue jeans and white shirt and.... 

...and the denim jacket-

It suddenly becomes exponentially harder to breathe.

"Billy?"


	2. Just Don't Expect Me Back This Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She told him to stay away... so why did he immediately disobey?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so blown away by the support this fic has received from you lovely lot! It's much appreciated and I just want to say thank you :)

Just Don't Expect Me Back This Evening

 

"Hey toss me that!" Billy hollered, his hand outstretched to capture the damp towel Matt had just chucked across the locker room. Tommy caught it and threw it for him. His hands got it easily and he shook his head at them, using it to rub his dripping hair dry. He sighed into the cracked mirror near his locker while the jockish banter went around in loud echoes around him. His reflection glared back at him with slanted blue eyes that looked disappointed. He saw the remnants of purple and blue bruises on his jaw, cheekbones and just above his brow and swallowed hard. It felt as if he couldn't go anywhere without being reminded of that awful fight. 

"I was looking for you."

'Point in case,' he thought wryly, turning around slowly to see none other than Nancy Wheeler standing behind him, her feet planted and her fists clenched around some chemistry textbook. The other guys in the room fell silent, quietly taking in the scene with glee in their eyes. Billy's face slipped into that careful mask that made him look menacing and dangerous.

"Not supposed to be in here Wheeler." He said, his tone low and taunting. Her bravado almost dropped on the floor as he took a calculated step towards her but then her huge blue eyes hardened and she pursed her lips.

"I need to talk to you." 

Billy scoffed obnoxiously, turning back to his locker.

"About what? Is freak Byers not satisfying your needs so you need me to fill in the position? I mean you do seem to switch-up boyfriends every now and again. And I gotta tell ya, I'm not boyfriend material." 

His teammates all burst out in loud laughter- Tommy's annoying cackle being the loudest. Behind him, Nancy readjusts her stance and fixes the back of his head with the most withering glare he's ever seen; his eyes following her movements in the cracked mirror.

"It's about Steve." She growled causing him to freeze in his tracks. Fuck. This was definitely not a conversation he wanted the rest of the team to hear. He rounded on her after slamming his locker and she didn't even flinch- just followed after him as he walked briskly out of the locker room and into the school hallway. The minute they're alone, no prying eyes around, he sneered at her.

"What the hell about him Wheeler?"

Nancy for the most part kept her cool, but even her face matched his sneer, her nose turned up in disgust as she glared lasers into him. 

"I'll say this since everyone else is too scared to say it to you; you're a monster. Steve is laid up in bed at home because of what you did-" 

"Not my fault if pretty boy can't take a hit-" He interrupted, Nancy slamming her eyes shut because she couldn't believe his nonchalant attitude. 

"It wasn't just one hit Billy! You beat him until he was unconscious! He's got a concussion now and he can't even get out of bed without passing out!"

Billy wiped the stupid sneer from his face at that and stood up properly, unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides, listless. His eyes are hooded now, and he's just frowning slightly at Nancy, who, for the most part, seemed really smug that she got his attention.

"We haven't been able to visit him because his doctor said he needs rest but he's messed up bad and it's all because of you. He's practically a vegetable now-"

"And what the hell do you want from me Wheeler?" He cut in, towering over her, the glint steely in his eyes. Nancy took a quick step back when he advanced on her but her face was still set in that threatening way she seemed to have perfected. 

"I don't want a damn thing from you Billy. But I will say this; leave him the hell alone. If he makes it thro- ...when he makes it through this, I don't want to see you anywhere near him. Do you understand?" 

He snorted mirthlessly trying to look unaffected but he could feel himself becoming affected by her harsh words. He knew Steve had missed a couple days of school because of their fight- hell, so did he. But he'd been back after two days, Steve on the other hand had been MIA for all of four days thus far. Call it callousness on his part, but he didn't even stop to think of just how bad a shape the pretty boy was in. From what Nancy had just told him, it sounded as if Steve was doing worse than he thought. He instantly felt some type of way- bad? He wasn't sure but he didn't let the cocky mask slip from his face for too long. 

"It's a small town. We're bound to bump into each other some time or the other." He said coolly, flinching as she got up in his face, her voice low and scathing.

"You're damn lucky this town has monsters way worse than you Billy Hargrove. Otherwise your ass would be in jail and you'd never get away scot-free for what you did. This town may be too small for your personality but don't you dare think for a second that we'll forget what you did. You stay away from him, you stay away from Lucas and if you ever put a hand on Max again, I'll sic Chief Hopper on your sorry ass." 

They're both face to face now, noses almost touching as her steely blue eyes burn into his narrowed ones. The tension is thick between them and Billy can feel his heart pulsing up in his throat.

"That a threat Wheeler?" He rumbles, his voice dropping a few octaves in that scary way he'd learned from Neil. But Nancy doesn't even blink. 

"It definitely is. And I'm dead serious Hargrove." 

She stomped off without giving him a chance to respond and he breathes out hard, eyes following her as she hurried down the hall. 

.........

 

Billy Hargrove was a lot of things. 

He was a bad boy, a rebel, a bastard son, the scum of the earth and Hawkins' resident monster. A lot of his personality traits had been sown, cultivated and developed back in sunny California, where he'd been the King. Back then, he lived with his mother on the other side of town, had the coolest friends Cali weed could buy and picked up chicks by the dozens- they loved his deep, ocean-blue Camaro- or fucking in the backseat of it. He was on top of the world and nothing could touch the great Billy Hargrove. But then came the obvious plot twist in his life when his mother passed, OD'd on cocaine or some shit- and Billy was forced to go and live with his father, Neil Hargrove. 

Neil was an ex-marine with a strong jaw, a clean cut and hard, steely eyes. Everything about the man screamed authoritarian asshole and Billy wanted no part of it. He hated his father for leaving his mother and hitching it up with the Barbie-doll, ginger-haired looking bitch, Susan Mayfair. It destroyed her. So when social services forced him out of his comfort in San Diego to the tense, warzone of Bakersfield where Neil had rebuilt himself another picture-perfect family; Billy was more than furious. He did his damnest to disrespect Susan, scare her stupid little redhead daughter, Maxine, and disobey Neil. His tactics seemed to work for the first two weeks but after that, Billy had seen the side of Neil his mother had warned him about. 

Fast forward to approximately six months after he'd started living with them, Neil's job had brought them all the way to dark and desolate little Hawkins, Indiana- a hick town that had some of the ugliest girls he'd ever seen and even douchier guys. By that time, Neil had already reigned him in with his strict regulations and corporal punishment, so Billy hadn't just moved to Hawkins with emotional baggage; he was also a ticking time bomb that was just ready to fucking explode. It just so happened that he detonated at the wrong time... and the wrong person. 

It took him a few days to admit it to himself- out loud- that Steve Harrington didn't deserve any of what took place at the Byers' house. But when he finally did, he'd realized just how bad he screwed up. He let his anger get the best of him- a taxing result of Neil body-checking him and then smacking him in the face earlier that night. And Steve Harrington had paid the price. His brain was muddled and he was angry and scared and desperate to just get Max and drag her stupid ass back home before Neil did something worse. And boy could that man get worse. 

In retrospect, the bitch slap he'd issued shouldn't have affected Billy as much as it did, since he'd done a lot worse to his son back in Bakersfield. But Billy was scared. He was just so fucking scared of the man; he felt like his mother everytime Neil got up in his face and smacked him around like some kind of punching bag. He didn't expect Harrington and those kids to understand him... and he wouldn't blame them if they refused to. In their eyes, he was just a big, bad, bully who terrorized their perfect babysitter and the black kid.

If Billy were to truly be honest with himself, using his abusive father as an excuse for his behaviour was as weak as he could get. He knew the truth; there was no one to blame but himself. He was the one with the issues. The one messed up in the head. He was the sick fuck who deserved to be messed up, not Harrington. Billy Hargrove was a lot of things, yeah- 

...a lot of bad things. 

"Mr Hargrove?" 

He shook the morbid thoughts out of his head at the sound of Principal Cooper's voice and stood up from the chair to awkwardly shake the man's hand. 

"Let me just say that I'm really impressed and touched by your offer to volunteer to help out a fellow student. I'm sure Mrs Harrington will appreciate gesture and Steven even more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come. Soon I hope, I've got meetings and classes to get to but I'll keep writing whenever I have free time. Enjoy. And keep those comments coming lol :P


	3. Never Meant To Be So Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy thought he could do this. Why did he even try? He always does what Neil says he does best; make things worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really amazed by the feedback. I love you guys! Your love and support mean the world to me.

Never Meant To Be So Cold

 

"So, Billy, how do you like Hawkins so far? It must be so different from California." 

Billy nodded slowly at one, Mrs Judy Harrington. She'd welcomed him with open arms when he arrived at the house twenty minutes earlier. 

"It's the exact opposite to California." 

Steve Harrington might have lost his shine as King at school, but Billy could see why he'd once been hailed as Hawkins royalty just by taking a glimpse at his fucking mansion of a house. The gates surrounding the compound were thick, black iron bars laid in with elaborate iron patterns all painted in gold. When Billy first stepped outside to buzz the intercom, he'd been completely dwarfed by the gates that stretched way up high, as if the Harringtons were secretly hinting at their status above the rest of the town. 

When they opened automatically, he'd taken a few steps in and was immediately awestruck by all the greenery and flowers surrounding him, all cut and designed to follow the custom stone pathway to the front door. His eyes took in the white, stone and clay statues and figurines placed decoratively around the nearby garden and his brow raised into his hairline. He suddenly realized that Steve Harrington didn't need to be King of Hawkins High, when he had all of this grandiosity surrounding him. He sighed and walked up the aesthetically cream and brown tiled steps, knocking gingerly on the lavish, darkwood door that was embossed with golden floral designs. Of course it would, he thinks wryly, rolling his eyes. Even though he'd worn his best blue jeans and white shirt, he still felt like a homeless bum compared to this place.

The woman who answered the door had distinctive brown hair, similar to Steve's and had clear, amber eyes that looked tired and sleepy. Her frame was small and lithe like her son's and she was dressed in the same kind of preppy, soft cotton shirt and pants that just screamed "rich". Billy followed her in after introducing himself and tried his hardest not to let his eyes wander around the stunning interior of the house. She'd led him to the kitchen where a pot was on the stove, bubbling away. Steve was still sleeping so he'd have to wait a while but Judy was good enough company while he waited. 

"I bet you miss the huge malls and the busy city." She comments while checking on her chicken soup. 

"I do... sometimes." He answers honestly, sitting on a barstool at the counter, his bag on the floor beside him.

"I miss the busy city life all the time. Steve's father and I usually travel all over the country for conferences and all that boring business stuff but most of the places we've stayed at are so beautiful." She reveals, her voice quiet and somewhat nostalgic. 

"You don't like Hawkins?" Billy hears himself ask and it's not because he's interested; just for the sake of conversation. 

Judy looks like she appreciates the concern anyway and she shakes her head, leaving the stove to lean on the tiled counter opposite him.

"No I do. Believe me, Hawkins is a neat little town and I love it here. I just... I don't like how quiet it is sometimes. I miss the hustle and bustle of the city. And the bright lights and the-"

"The distractions?" He interrupts, totally catching her drift. She seemed like a big town girl who lived for the parties and the champagne and the night life. It wasn't hard to find that she was missing all of that fun stuff by being stuck here in Hawkins. She spoke with a yearning that he identified with as well; he remembers crying and crying his eyes out the first day he'd slept under Neil's roof with his new family. He remembers the burning deep inside him when he thought about San Diego and the waves and his mom. A place like that could make anyone forget about their worries and just be free. That's what Judy wanted- to be free, he thinks, glancing up to see her sigh tiredly. 

"Steve's never liked the frivolous and fun lifestyle much. He's always been a small-town boy. Hates going with us on business trips." 

A feeling of dread dips up and down his spine and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the mention of Steve. He'd almost forgotten why he was there in the first place. He thinks of the boy, in his stupid khakis and his fancy pastel polos with his Ray-Bans and a sweater around his shoulders. He can see Steve as a small-town boy; he's as complacent and vanilla as they come- even at basketball practice. And then his relationship with Wheeler had been nothing short of fucking vanilla. Sure, he'd heard about all the girls Steve had fucked but they were all the same; he was sweet and gentle with them, making it good for them and all that boring shit. Harrington was not cut out for the wild life, even if his parents were. 

"Well, I don't know much of anything about this town yet but... I know Steve's a... good guy." He replies quietly, looking down at his lap and it's the most honest he's been since meeting Steve's mother. That was his guilty subconscious secretly apologizing to Judy for beating up her son without ever admitting that he did it. That he was the one responsible for Steve's current condition. He flinches as she smiles genuinely at him. 

 

"And it was so kind of you to volunteer to help. Steve has good friends." She muses and he huffs quietly thinking, 'If you only knew.' An image of a furious Nancy Wheeler flashes in his head and he shakes his head. 

"What did the doctor diagnose him with? If you don't mind me asking." 

Judy takes a deep breath and rubs at her eyes tiredly. 

"Uh, he's got a severe concussion and a fractured cheekbone, fractured nose and some minor lacerations on the head. The side effects of the concussion are the real problem." 

Billy's pulse picks up with every injury the woman reads out like a citation. His palms become sweaty and has to wipe them distractedly on his jeans. 

"Wh- uh, what side effects?" He mutters, his voice shaking slightly.

"Well, he's been getting a lot of really terrible migraines lately, some nosebleeds too. Sometimes he'll black out so suddenly- uh, he gets nauseated with movement and his eyesight's not doing so good."

Judy sounds utterly devastated and broken up and her words slice into Billy like a white-hot knife in his gut. He didn't mean it- he didn't fucking mean to do what he did. He feels his chest tighten and he closes his eyes for a moment, feeling dizzy.

"Our private doctor is monitoring his scans and medical reports so, I know he's in good hands. But seeing him like that-" She pauses when her voice chokes up and Billy wants to run all the way to the quarry and jump off the cliff. 

"Dr Herald insisted that he get as much rest and quiet as possible. The concussion has made him extremely sensitive to his environment. Nancy and his little friend Dustin have been dying to see him but Steve doesn't want to... see anyone right now. He says just wants to be left alone." 

Billy frowns at that. Steve had actually declined seeing Nancy and that little weirdo? No wonder Nancy came at him as hard as she did. She felt rejected. 

"I'm sure he just doesn't want them to see him." He jokes weakly but Judy chuckles anyway. 

"You're probably right. He's probably just embarrassed about the whole 'falling down the stairs' thing." 

He almost falls off the chair and has to steady himself with a hand on the countertop.

"Th- the what?" 

Harrington had actually told his mother that he'd fallen down some steps and that's how he got a concussion...

Billy didn't know what he was expecting as the excuse but that one sounded so... unbelievable. And completely cool for him but terrible for Steve. Not for the second or third time he found himself really wondering what had actually happened at that shabby, old house that made Steve and his band of miscreants so secretive and careful. What did they have to fear?

"He slipped and fell down there," She answers, gesturing to the tastefully curved flight of steps that lead to the upstairs. Billy eyes the place with an uncomfortable grunt and looks back down into his lap. He can hear the doubtfulness in her voice.

"But you don't believe that." He mutters. 

It's not a question.

Judy pauses for a second before she shakes her head.

"Two black eyes and his lips are busted. That sounds like a fight. You wouldn't happen to know anyone at school who would do something like this would you?" 

He looks up at her so fast, he hears his neck crack unexpectedly. Her amber eyes are staring back at him all open and earnest and he feels like utter crap. 

"I..." 

The hissing sound of an overheating bubbling pot suddenly breaks the thick tension between them and Judy quickly rushes to the stove, turning it off.

"Crap- I almost forgot the soup." She chuckles nervously, making sure the thing isn't stuck to the bottom of the pot. She goes upstairs to wake Steve and when she comes back down, she's smiling brightly at him.

"He's awake. You can go up now, I'll bring up the food for you both." 

Billy almost wants to rush out the door instead but he keeps on the path her hands are steering him towards and ends up climbing the damn stairs reluctantly. 

 

.............

"Billy?" 

The voice that says his name is soft and fearful but Billy can't seem to process it as he freezes right in the doorway, one foot in the room, the other, out. 

It's almost as if he's in a trance as he looks over at the- ...the dejected pile that was Steve Harrington, lying on the bed under a mound of dark blue blankets. He looked terribly pale and thin, sheen of sweat made his skin glisten under the dim lights in his room. His small frame was wrapped in a soft, pink cotton t-shirt that made him look even more frail. He was barely sitting up; a pile of pillows under him to support his back and his neck. His hair looked dead, lying damp on his head, dark strands flopping down into his eyes. And those eyes- huge, dark doe-eyes that blinked up at him with a haunted gaze. They were surrounded by dark, blue-black bruises, remnants of their fight. And his trembling lips were slightly swollen, deep red cuts bright against the soft pink of his lips. 

"Wh- what're you doing here..." Steve whimpers out and he doesn't even have the energy to make it sound like a question. Just sounds like a weak cry for help. Billy feels the hot sting of shame wash over him and he immediately looks down at his feet. He quickly digs in his bag and pulls out a folder with bent file pages poking out of it haphazardly. He gestures at it before resting it carefully on Steve's work desk.

"Brought all your assignments." He mutters, hands pawing at his bag nervously as Steve keeps watching him with those pretty eyes. 

"You- ... you're the volunteer?" Steve almost whispers and Billy hates that he can hear the scared little break in the boy's voice. 

Dammit. 

Why did he think this would be easy? Well, to be honest he didn't. He actually knew this was going to be one of the toughest things he's ever had to face in his life but fuck- He was not prepared to see Steve looking so tiny and pale and sick, with wet and fevered eyes and a shaking hand on his chest just over his heart. He had done that. He did that. That was his doing. And what killed him was the realization that Steve's behaviour was exactly how he acted whenever he was around Neil. 

Scared and small.

He quickly shakes his head at the thought and wipes at his eyes. 

"Yeah, I am." He answers, his voice low and rough and he misses the way Steve flinches at the sound because he's looking down at his feet. His voice is a trigger for Steve and the brunette has a hard time believing in anything that's happening right now. He shakes his head and immediately groans at the way his head just throbs sharply. Painfully.

"Here. You're here to f.. finish the job?" Steve's brain is lapsing and he finds himself in great difficulty trying to form coherent sentences in his head. Dr Herald had warned him that his cognitive and structural brain processes would be hindered for period of time which would result in the nonsense he'd just said. His face burns with shame as Billy glances up at him. 

Billy, on the other hand blanches at the question.

"No." He blurts out almost instantly and he frowns as Steve weakly pushes himself up on his weak arms, shying away from him as he goes to sit on the chair at his bedside. 

"Look- I know..." He starts softly but can't seem to follow through. Because the truth is, he doesn't know. He doesn't have a clue what to say to the boy he'd almost murdered- or left brain dead and he feels like Hawkins' biggest coward for it. He wants to say sorry but the timing isn't right at all and saying it now would just be a cheap excuse of an apology. It's in the tip of his tongue but he's all choked up. 

"You need to leave." Steve suddenly gasps out and he frowns at him. Steve is shaking hard and he's got his fingers tightened in his hair as if he's trying to pull the strands out. He's groaning and whimpering as he folds over, forehead resting against his knees. 

"Steve-" 

"No! I- leave! You cant stay here! Get out!" Steve practically shrieks, rocking back and forth as his throat continues to make this weird rumbling sound. He sees bright flashes of white, blue and fluorescent green behind his eyes and suddenly the pain in his head sharpens like there's a steel arrow zinging through his temple. If Billy didn't know any better, he'd think Steve was having a seizure. Or a panic attack. He gets to his feet fast and backs away from the screeching boy on the bed. 

"Stevie!" 

Judy bursts into the room and rushes over to her son, dimming the lights in the room and cradling him in her arms. He's stopped screaming and now it's just terrified whimpers and sobs as she rocks back and forth, in tandem with his own nerve-wrecking rocking. 

"It's okay sweetie. I'm here. Its alright just breathe in. And out. In, and out. Just like the doctor showed you." 

Billy watches the scene unfold before him with wide, misty eyes, his back against the wall. Steve looks so scared as he sobs into his mother's shirt, his pale fingers gripping her tightly. He can hear his muffled whimpers of, "It hurts. My head hurts, mom." And it's the most gut-wrenching thing he's ever had to listen to. 

'I did that.'

He swallows the bile that's rising in his throat. 

'I'm the monster.'

He quietly picks up his bag as Judy turns to him with glistening eyes. 

'I'm just like him.'

She nods at him to leave and he practically runs out the door. 

*

The beating Neil gives him later that night for forgetting to do the dishes is an overly harsh one; the result of Neil's bad day at work. 

Billy takes every punch, slap and boot to the gut without so much as a whimper.

He deserves it. 

He cries that night in his bed, blood on his lips, his ribs aching; thinking of Steve Harrington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final year is taxing right now so I don't know when in gonna update next. But I'll always keep writing so don't worry. Enjoy.


	4. I Didn't Ask For This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy's torn between options while Steve grows bitter with every day he's stuck in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me long enough. Hmph! I've been busy guys but, i'm still writing.

I Didn't Ask For This 

 

Steve sat up quietly in bed, hands folded over his lap stoically. His eyes were dark and expressionless, his lips closed in a straight line. His brow ticked every now and then; a side effect of his fucking concussion. His breaths came out in slow, even beats, a calming numbness reverberating from the base of his skull to his temples. In the distance, he could hear his mother preparing a bath for him, her quiet movements soothing him momentarily. He side-glanced the table at his bedside and frowned slightly at the black folder filled with messy pages. A name was scrappily written on the front in blue ink, barely visible but Steve could make it out just fine. 

Billy Hargrove.

His brow twitched again as he opened the folder, fingers running shakily over the inked papers. The handwriting was small and surprisingly neat, with little random doodles on the margins of the pages, like Billy had gotten bored in the middle of the class and had just decided to draw a little blue kitten paw-print. His index finger carefully traced the drawing, feeling every indentation the pen point had made on the thin paper. It was an angry paw-print. 

Steve felt his eyes water a little as he looked at all the dates on the pages, from the twenty-third of January to the twenty-fourth and the twenty-fifth all the way up to the twenty-ninth. He'd missed out on so much back at school, he could literally feel his future slip away from him. He'd been looking forward to graduating so bad, wanting to get out there and do something with his life; not be a total burden on his parents. But, ...plans changed, he guessed, wet drops splattering on the pages, blurring out blue inked words of a brief critique of Thomas Hardy's "The Man He Killed."

Suddenly he felt rage and frustration bubble up inside him and he growled low in his throat. His dark eyes glared daggers at the papers in front of him and he slammed his fist into them. When that wasn't enough, he ripped out the pages one by one, tearing them to pieces and crumpling them up in his shaking hands. His fingers worked fast, ripping note after note, white pieces falling on the bed and all around him like papery snow. The last of the pages fell to the floor and he found himself pulling at the hard plastic folder- pure destruction on his mind. But the thing was too strong for him. He screamed in frustration and flung it across the room; the thing crashing into the lamp shade on his work desk, knocking it to the ground. 

It shattered. 

"Steve!" 

Judy came running frantically out of the bathroom, her face panicked and distraught. Her hands were wet as she sat on the bed next to him, holding him tight. 

"What happened?" She asked frightfully, staring at the broken shade on the floor next to his desk with wide eyes. Her hands held her shaking son tightly, his tiny sobs making her heart break. He sounded so small and so miserable, she just wanted to hold him forever and hide him away from the world. She saw the pieces of paper lying scattered all over the carpet, torn and shredded- completely mutiliated. 

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" She asked softly, murmuring into his hair. She didn't expect an honest answer but she got one anyway. 

"I hate this." Was his tired, sniffling reply, as he kept his hands over his face, crying into his palms. 

"Hey, no, no. It's okay Stevie. It's alright, you're gonna get better. Dr Herald says he's seeing improvements in your condition. You're so close to getting better baby." She coos, stroking his hair gently and her chest constricts as she remembers talking to him like that when he was younger. God, she's been missing out on so much with her son. She pulls him into a hug again and rubs his back.

"Come on. I drew you a nice warm bath with that soft, vanilla bath salt that you like so much." 

Steve scoffed at that, dryly amused.

"C..can't I just take a shower, ..m'not a baby." He muttered, wiping furiously at his face. 

"No sweetie. We can't risk you having another attack and falling in the shower. The bath is safer."

Steve sighed, shivering as she pulled his blankets off. She helped him off the bed as his legs were still poorly coordinated and held him around the waist as they walked slowly to the bathroom. He could feel his bitterness fading slowly, sinking into the warm, scented water and he grinned slightly up at her.

"You don't happen to have a rubber duckie do you?" 

The brilliant smile on her face made his little joke worth it. 

 

..............

 

The dark, purple bruise on his cheek smarted as he trudged up tiredly to his locker, his bag hanging loosely from his hand. Neil had sucker punched him last night and he hadn't even felt it until this morning. He sighed, yanking open his locker angrily. It was hard enough being the new kid in town and the new kid in school. Add being emotionally unstable and messed up in the head and you had yourself Billy Hargrove; the walking time bomb. 

He was angry at himself for hurting Steve. There was no other way to say it; No beating around the bush. He was a screw-up and he'd let his anger get the better of him. And now Steve Harrington was paying for it. Words couldn't describe how devastated and messed up he was after seeing the pretty brunette scream and cry with hurt and fear in his eyes as he sobbed into his mother's arms. They could try- the words- ...but they'd only falter as soon as they started. There was nothing else to say.

Billy knew he was a monster. 

A fuck up.

Which was exactly why he went home that night and took his beating like he deserved. Didn't fight back; didn't even cry... until later anyway. But as Neil brought his fists down on his face and planted a few hard kicks to his gut, Billy realised that Neil had known who he really was all along. That's why he treated him the way he did. That was why he spat harsh words and vitriol in his face and in his ear; to remind him of the ugly brute he really was. "Even your mother didn't want to be around you! She died happy! She died knowing that you wouldn't be around to ruin her life again!" Neil had screamed at him on the day of the funeral... And many days after that. 

Now, after what happened with Harrington, Billy was sure of it. 

He wasn't normal and he'd never be. He could spend days- years, trying to do good; to make up for all the wrongs he'd done. And it wouldn't amount to squat. Because he couldn't change what he was. It was then- last night- that he'd decided that he wouldn't fight back again. He wouldn't fight Neil or Max or anyone else. He'd just silently take the beatings and the punishments and the vitriol and the shame. Because that's what he deserved. He deserved to be punished for injuring Steve. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he remembers Steve crying. 

A locker slams shut near him and he startles out of his reverie, glaring up to see Nancy fixing him with a hard stare. Jonathan was standing awkwardly by her side, pointedly looking away from him. Billy just flares and turns back to pull two literature texts from his locker before closing it and heading to class. Nancy Wheeler could be mad at him and stay that way for all he cares. He deserves it. 

* 

Later in the evening, Billy finds himself sitting in the principal's office, Cooper frowning at him, confused. 

"I don't understand Billy, I thought you really wanted to do this." The man inquires, his deep voice sounding disappointed. Billy feels his bruise twitch again and he looks down into his lap. He can't stand to hear the disappointment but at the same time he tries to accept it; to welcome it. This is what he does; ...disappoint the people around him. 

 

"I... I did but... I don't think I'm doing much good." He mutters quietly, wincing as he feels the man's eyes staring intently at him. 

"Why do you think that, son?" 

 

He flinches at the "son" Cooper clips on there as if he cares. No one cares about your sorry ass Billy!

Thats Neil's voice in his head screaming at him.

"I feel like I'm... making it worse. I only went there one time so far and he had a... look, he panicked. I'm not doing him any good being there." 

'I'm no good for him', is what Billy really wanted to say. But he kept that for himself, repeating it in his head until it stuck- just like Neil taught him. 

Cooper sighs, his hands folded together in that signature principal way. He looks down at the papers in front of him and shuffles them with indifference. 

"Ok, how about this? Give it one more day, one more try and if things don't go well, I'll find another volunteer? How does that sound?" 

There it is. 

The offer is on the table. 

Billy can either accept it- and do what he'd intended to do in the first place which was make up for what he'd done. Or, he could reject it and never ever face what he'd done, like a coward with his tail between his legs. When his brain put his options that way, the answer became obvious. He still had his reservations but he didn't tell them to Cooper. He'd deal with that shit on his own- like everything else in his life. 

"I'm glad you're giving this another shot, Billy." Cooper says as they exit the office together, the principal holding open the door. 

"I'll call Mrs Harrington this evening and let her know that you'll be over later." 

Billy nods, smiling slightly, just to fucking be polite and turns to leave, one hand adjusting the strap of his bag. When he looks up though, all movements freeze and his eyes stick on the person sitting on the chair just outside the principal's office. 

Nancy Wheeler was small, but the withering glare in her fiery eyes made her seem bigger, taller and ten times more threatening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote half of this drunk, because the night circuit is life. Beers and smokes galore. Hope you enjoyed! More to come.


	5. Pick You Up When You're Feeling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy's not sure what happened but, he's sure now, that he's the one to take care of Steve. Nancy Wheeler needs to give him time and space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, been so busy. But thank you for all the love and just know that I love you all back!

Pick You Up When You're Feeling Down 

 

Billy entered the Harrington house with trepidation at his usual time, four o' clock on the dot. Judy looked exhausted and her hair was pulled up into a severe ponytail. She'd welcomed him with a hidden sort of desperation that made Billy feel bad for her but sad for Steve. He didn't know the boy that well but he was sure he felt bad for being such a bother to his mom. Hell, if it had been the other way around, Neil would have never let him forget it. But Judy Harrington seemed like a good mom. 

"How has he been?" He asks softly, following her into the kitchen. She looks back at him with regretful eyes and shakes her head.

"I'm so sorry about- about what happened-" She began but Billy cut her off.

"You don't have to apologize. I mean... he can't help it. I should be the one saying sorry." He mutters, hands digging into his palms to keep himself sane. They stand there in tense silence for a minute, not knowing what to say but Judy looked almost ready to explode. She'd mentioned being an outgoing person before. Being at home and having to take care of her broken son must have been taxing. His throat tightened at that. 

"I just... I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make him better. And he hasn't said a word since yesterday." She breaks, her voice shuddering with emotion. Billy just stands there awkwardly, feeling terrible for everything. He was sorry for hurting Steve, he was sorry for attacking Lucas, he felt sorry for ruining Max's life and he was sorry for being born. If he hadn't, Neil would've still been married to his mom, she'd still be alive today and everyone would be happy. He looks down at his feet and gives Judy her space.

"M'sorry." Is all he can manage without croaking too much. 

She looks up at him and wipes her eyes quickly, shaking her head and chuckling in that "I'm so stupid why am I crying?" way. She clears her throat and smoothens out her white shirt. She's dressed like someone who's about to go out and Billy feels stupid for just noticing that. 

"Are you- ...are you going somewhere?" He asks, his voice timid and respectful, trying not to sound too rude. 

"Um... yes. I'm sorry for the short notice but I've got to go pick up his Dad at the airport. I hope you don't mind just staying with him until we get back?" She answers picking up the car keys from on the counter. Billy feels his hackles rise at the sound of Steve's father. He had nothing against the man... just male authority figures in general. He hated them, was afraid of them and stayed away from them at all costs. He sighed, nodding slowly.

"Uh, sure. I mean- no, I don't mind." He answers curtly. 

"Okay. Thank you so much, Billy. Oh, his baths are generally at five and he usually eats something after that. I've made lasagna for you both and there are some chicken club sandwiches for later-" 

"Baths?" Billy interrupts because he'd stopped listening after she said "his showers." What the hell did she expect him to do? He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as she smiles at him.

"Oh, no sweetie. You won't have to do anything, just help him to the bathroom. His... he can't... it's difficult for him to walk on his own." She says sadly and Billy wants to kick himself. Hard.

"Yeah sure. That's... no problem." He finishes stupidly, biting the insides of his cheeks. 

She pats him on the shoulder and leaves. 

*

Ten minutes. 

Billy stands in the kitchen for ten minutes contemplating whether he should go up now or when it's five for Steve's bath. He looks down at his watch and sees that it's just 4:34 PM. Sighing, he just decides to go up and check on the boy. Judy had said he'd been quiet since yesterday; so chances were, he'd just ignore Billy anyway. He carefully climbed the stairs, reluctance strong in his limbs begging him to turn back but he powered on in spite of it. He saw the door to Harrington's bedroom slightly ajar and the darkness inside it seemed dismal. Like a blackhole that just sucked the last ounce of courage from him and he paused at the threshold. 

Come on Hargrove! Grow a pair! 

He rolls his eyes at his own deprecating thoughts and stepped in. It was hard to see at first but when his eyes adjusted, he made out the small figure, slumped but wide awake on the bed. He swallowed down the choking lump in his throat and moved closer, slowly sitting down on the chair beside the bed. Steve's eyes were huge, and not in the pretty way they always were when he was confused or angry about something- no. They were huge, haunted and empty. His lips were pale, much like the rest of his skin but paler... so Billy guessed they were white. His hair looked sweat soaked and frazzled, as if he'd passed an incredibly uncaring hand through them and had not bothered to fix it back. 

'All your fault.' 

It felt like his inner voice had said that but somehow his inner voice always sounded like Neil. And that sucked.

"Hey." He said softly, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, chin propped under his clasped knuckles. 

No response.

His thumb quietly scraped it's way to his lips, rubbing at the softness distractedly. Steve just sat there, staring into space, his fingers twitching every now and then. Billy narrowed his eyes at a familiar black folder on the bedside table next to him and he blinked at the small pile of torn paper on top of it. It wasn't a stretch to realise that the pieces were made up of his notes for Literature and he scoffed in response, amused. 

"Guess you hate Hardy as much as I do huh?" 

Steve still doesn't respond. He's just sitting there, breathing and not doing much else. Billy rubs his face with both hands, tired and exhausted. He doesn't know what to say or do and doesn't dare make another move; too afraid of triggering the other boy. He rests back on his knuckles again and sighs. 

"I talked to Wheeler today." 

A twitch.

"She says she misses you. Well, not in so many words but... you know." 

He gets a soft blink for his troubles and feels accomplished. A little bit. 

"She says that I should leave you alone." He admits and he's kind of glad Steve isn't responding right now. Maybe he can get out what he needs to say to the boy without the fear of rejection. Silence can be either or... right?

"She's right. I know that." 

Unresponsive again.

"I shouldn't even be close to you after what I... what I did." 

Jesus, this is hard. He wipes his eyes, trying to be discreet about it. He snorts pathetically at himself and shakes his head.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. And I don't expect you to accept it... because I know that doesn't mean much coming from the jackass who hurt you in the first place but- ...Steve I'm sorry." 

He hears the shitty apology come out of his mouth and thinks that Neil would be disappointed in him. Well- more than he already is. His father always made him apologize to Susan and Max for being a terrible excuse for a step-brother and a step-son. Neil even made him apologize for being a terrible son. Period. He should've been good at apologies already considering how many people he's hurt. Hell, that should've been his best quality. 

Turns out he wasn't even good at that. 

Steve breathes in deep and turns to him, his pretty eyes dark and wet. His lips are quivering with the effort it takes not to breakdown and Billy finds himself curling away from that openness. He only ever cries by himself. Never in front of other people. Maybe only his Dad when he's getting the crap kicked out of him. The boy glares hard at him and mutters a soft, "go to hell." 

Billy's heart breaks a little but he doesn't show it. 

That's what his Dad told him when he apologized. 

He nods, not able to look Steve in the eyes. But he feels the withering gaze on him and it sucks. He can feel it burning holes in him, leaving him cracked open to be eaten alive. Steve has every right to hate him. To be angry and to be bitter with him. He thinks about Nancy and what she'd told him earlier. 

'Tell him to stop pushing us away...'

Steve could hate him all he wanted, but he couldn't just isolate himself. He needed his friends more than he needed Billy. 

"She wants you to stop pushing her away. Her and the nerdy kids." He mutters, chewing on his thumb. 

"Shut up." It's the first thing he's said out loud and Billy flinches like he's been slapped. 

"Ste-" 

"No! Shut up! I don't want to hear it Billy!" Steve yells at him and reaches out to the pile of paper on the table. He flings it at Billy but misses completely despite how close the other boy is. If they were friends, Billy would've made a comment about how childish that was but as he frowns up at Steve's furious face, he shuts up. It's not worth it. 

"You don't get to apologize!" Steve scathes and then out of the blue he gathers the energy to catapult straight off the bed and onto Billy. 

"The f- Steve! What the hell-" Billy grunts feeling Steve's smaller, much weaker body crash into him. He only has five seconds to get to his feet and grab on to Steve who is on his way to the floor as his legs buckle under him. 

"Get off me!" 

Steve screams in his face and Billy winces at the broken cry. He holds Steve carefully around the waist, keeping him from collapsing but the guy's a slippery one. He almost breaks Billy's hold but the blonde plants his feet and grabs Steve, pulling him close again. Steve's bony front is pressed up against his bruised ribs and torso, igniting his wounds but he grunts through it. 

"Stop-" 

"Let me go!" 

"Steve! Ste- Stop it!" He's forced to yell at the squirming brunette and immediately regrets it as Steve goes still in his rough grasp. The boy's brown eyes water as they glance up at him and he feels like scum. A solitary tear spills down his pale cheek and he sniffles, burying his face in Billy's chest, his sobs shaking them both.

"You did this to me." 

Billy hears the words and he just goes numb. He stands there, holding all of Steve's weight, feeling his jean jacket grow wet with hot tears. 

"Can't walk... can't do anything right.." 

The tortured sobs slice Billy all over his body. He doesn't care about his heart- that's already gone. He feels Steve's cries of anguish in his head, his hands that clutch the boy tightly, his legs that fight to stay up. It's too much. He did this. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He breathes into Steve's hair, trying to stop his own tears. He fails. 

"You did this..." 

"If I could take it back I would Steve, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"You can't... can't take it back." Steve whimpers, hands clutching at Billy's shoulders. 

"I'm sorry..." Billy hears himself repeat, like a mantra but Steve doesn't listen. Doesn't seem to hear him. Just cries and repeats his own mantra.

"You did this... can't take it back." 

Billy just holds him and stops apologizing after a while. Saying it never makes things better and he doesn't have the energy to repeat it. His arms tighten around Steve as his left knee bends. He whimpers, body spasming in reflex. 

"I've got you. Shh, it's okay. Won't let you fall." Billy whispers softly in the boy's ear and it seems to do the trick. His pained moans and whines dissipate and it's just him, breathing evenly, his head on Billy's chest. His skin is hot and fevered like he's sick and Billy frowns. He's burning up as they stand there, swaying gently to no music at all. 

Billy tries his best to keep his shit together as he holds the boy, remembering the last time he'd felt Steve this close. It wasn't the fight, oddly enough. Instead, he recalls him and Steve playing basketball, and making some snide comment to the brunette. Steve had said something smart to him right back and Billy remembers getting angry. He'd body-checked Harrington shortly after. But he'd been stronger then. Now, it just felt as if Billy was holding a skeleton.

"Hey, d'you want to take that bath now? You're burning up." He whispers in the boy's ear. Steve just nods sleepily, wrapping his arms around Billy's neck. He's incredibly frail, so Billy just lifts him into his arms in a bridal carry and goes to the bathroom. He sets Steve gently down on the toilet seat and starts preparing his bath. The water fills slowly- taking its goddamn time too. Steve gestures towards a jar labelled vanilla something and Billy can't help the smile that spreads on his face. Pretty boy wants to smell like vanilla, all soft and sweet. 

Steve mutters a barely audible, "Shut up." There's a little pink colour on his pale face from the blush he tries to hide. 

"Alright... it's ready... can, can you-" Billy starts but pauses when Steve lifts his arms up like a kid. He sighs and gingerly approaches the brunette. He slowly grabs the hem of the soft, white t-shirt and begins to pull it up and off. Steve shivers and closes in on himself the minute he's bare and Billy feels bad. He waits, pointedly staring at the tiny pair of black shorts on the boy. Steve huffs, muttering that he can do it himself but almost ends up cracking his head on the tile. 

"Whoa, okay. Slow down." Billy grunts, catching him before he falls. 

"I can't." He whimpers, his smooth chest on Billy's clothed one. Hargrove feels some type of way about that but he doesn't say a damn thing. Just places his careful fingers on the waist of Steve's shorts, the question clear in his eyes. Steve doesn't look at him but nods timidly for him to go on. 

"Not like we haven't showered together before." Billy tries to joke to just lighten the mood but Steve ignores him, biting his lip as he feels Billy's rough fingers on his skin. The whole bathroom goes into a deafening kind of silence and Billy doesn't look at Steve again. Just orders the boy to hold on to his shoulders as he slips the shorts down his long, pale legs, the obvious lack of underwear making Billy feel hot all of a sudden. He gently taps on Steve's knee for him to raise one foot at a time to slip out of the shorts and still doesn't look up. He's not about to take advantage of Steve in his current state and oogle him. 

When Steve sinks into the water with his help, he moans softly at the feeling and leans heavily against the wall on the side. He looks so tired and sleepy, sitting there all drenched, his hair messy like a wet kitten. Billy bites his lip worriedly. 

"You gonna be okay in here?" 

Steve blinks those huge, doe-eyes at him and he almost says he's sorry again. Jesus Christ, why did Harrington look so hauntingly beautiful right now? Was it because he was naked? No, that couldn't be it. He looked like this after practice. Billy had seen it up close, just never noticed. The boy draws his knees up and hugs them, bending his head to rest right there. His tiny sniffles make Billy feel more guilty and he looks away for a minute. His skin is practically glowing in the water, glistening under the light. His eyes travel the expanse of his naked back, and trace the moles on his skin, like a constellation of black stars across a pale sky. There are two bruises lower down, near his spine and Billy can't help but think that those are his marks. They have to be. 

He lowers himself to his knees, leaning over the tub's edge. Steve's crying silently, like he doesn't want to hear himself and Billy can't help the hand that reaches out to stroke the boy's wet hair soothingly. Steve gasps sharply and looks up at him, causing him to retrieve his hand. But then Steve grabs the very same hand, and pulls it to his face. He makes Billy's bigger palm, cup his jaw and he nuzzles into it. He doesn't look too sober or awake right now, but Billy let's him indulge himself. This was weird but he didn't dare stop the boy. 

"I'm scared." Steve confesses so softly that Billy has to lean closer to catch it. He runs his thumb over the fading bruises under Steve's pretty eyes and the cut in his lip and sheds a tear. 

"This is my fault." He whispers, holding Steve's small hands in his. He brings them to his lips but doesn't kiss them. Steve gasps softly but doesn't pull away. They just stay like that while the minutes tick on by, nothing but the sloshing of water in between them. It doesn't feel remotely weird to Billy- not anymore, anyway. He finds consolation in Steve's arms and Steve somehow finds comfort in his. He's not forgiven though. And he accepts that. 

He scrubs the stoic boy with the washcloth, soaking him up and washing him clean; every rub and stroke an apology. He washes his hair, taking particular care with the long strands and presses a kiss to his temple for good measure. After all, he did give him a concussion. Steve doesn't do much; just sits there and lets Billy move him around and wash and scrub him with the utmost care. His brain processes half of what's going on while the other half thinks about dark, slimy monsters with petal faces and sharp rows of teeth. He doesn't even feel awake now. 

When they're done, Billy helps him stand, wraps a fluffy towel around him and carries him back to the bedroom. He dries off while Billy gets a t-shirt and sweatpants for him, muttering something about not wanting to touch any of his shorts. It doesn't really register though. He slips them on and slides back under his covers, panting softly from exertion. He hadn't even done much. Billy asks if he wants to eat but he just shakes his head and closes his eyes. The thought of food makes him nauseous. The world is slowly becoming dead to him and just as he's about to slip away into unconsciousness, he swears he feels soft lips pressing to his forehead. 

"I'm sorry." 

Billy frowns heavily at Steve's state and understands why he didn't want Nancy or any of the nerds to see him. To him, it was embarrassing and he didn't like looking like that in front of the people he cared about. It's hard. Billy suddenly doesn't regret taking Cooper up on his offer. If he hadn't been here, someone else would have had to deal with Steve like this and Billy didn't think he could stomach the thought of another person touching Steve the way he did tonight. 

He had to do this. 

This was his apology to Steve.

Fuck everyone else. 

And fuck Nancy Wheeler.

He remembers what she'd said.  
................

 

"What is it that you're getting out of this huh? What- extra credit?" 

Billy growled as Nancy followed close behind him, her chattering presence at his side like a bee that won't go away. He shoved the door to the secretary's office open and stepped out into the hallway, bag in his shoulder. He could hear the quick tick-tock of Nancy's shoes in his ear and he sighed in annoyance, stopping abruptly and causing her stupid face to crash right into his back. She squeaked and pushed away from him while he cackled at her flustered reaction. 

"What's your end game here Billy?!" She pressed, her voice low but poisonous. The blue in her eyes glowed like radioactive fire. 

"I don't have one! Jesus- and Cooper didn't offer extra credit to volunteer! Okay?" He yelled, frustrated with being so cornered. Wheeler really needed to mind her own damn business!

"So what? You're just doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" 

The dry and unsold expression she fixes on him is amusing but he's more pissed. His tongue swipes out of his mouth sliding over his lips in that sexy way it always does and Nancy's eyes follow the movement. He looks down at his feet, hands on his waist like they're in some grand argument. For Wheeler, they probably are.

"Is that so hard to believe?" He remarks snidely and her face grows red, infuriated. He's bullshitting her and she knows it.

"Yes. It is, because you know what? You're the one who beat him up in the first place!" 

He chuckles darkly, wide smile on his face but his eyes are cold and expressionless as he throws his head back to laugh at nothing in particular. 

"It's none of your business Wheeler! Drop it." 

"No, I'm not going to drop it. Either you tell me why you're being so kind and helpful to Steve or I go to principal Cooper right now and tell him what really happened." 

Her voice is steady now and dead serious. There's a real threat in it and Billy can't believe this tiny bitch is stepping to him like she's the authority around Hawkins High. Maybe if he was still the same Billy from a couple of weeks ago, he might've cussed her out or even shoved her to the ground and make his escape. But he'd been working on himself lately- because of what happened with Steve- and found that he couldn't go back to that or he'd regress and remain stuck in that terrible cycle of violence. But even so...

"You won't tell him." 

He schooled his voice to drop a few octaves lower and now it was raspy and dangerous. 

"Don't push me." Nancy warns but her voice is slightly shaky now.

"No, you won't. You can't. Because that'll only bring up a can of worms about that night at the Byers house. And judging from how cagey Max and the rest of you weirdos act whenever I ask about it, I highly doubt you wanna open your trap and risk anyone finding about your dirty little secret." 

Hook. Line. And sinker. 

The steady panic that flashes across her face lets him know that he has her. He's called her on her bluff and there was no way she could deflect. She couldn't go to Cooper now. So she had no leverage to keep him away from Steve. Which, in its own frame sounded weird to his own ears. It's not like he was dying to become friends with the boy. Just wanted to make up for what he'd done- no strings attached. As soon as Steve got better, Billy planned on moving on. There was only so much making up he could do. Although judging from the last encounter he'd had with Harrington, it was going to take some time. 

Nancy sighs, knowing she's defeated. She lowers her gaze, hands in her pockets, rocking back on her heels. It's not for pity but she looks like she really wants to say something but can't. Billy somewhat respects that and sighs too, the tension dropping from his shoulders. He slings his bag over his shoulders, his bruised ribs protesting a bit at the jostling. He knows how close Steve and his band of nerds are; and even more so, with Nancy and freak Byers for some unknown reason. So, in all honesty he can admit that he knows she's just trying to protect him. And keeping Billy as far from him as possible is protecting Steve. He's got no one to blame for that but himself. He was like acid, burning and destroying everything he touched. It was kind of comforting that Nancy knew that. He decides to offer her something for her genuine concerns.

"Look, I know I'm the last person you'd think to trust around Har- Steve. But, I figured I'd do this to... to apologize." 

His voice is small and quiet and he doesn't look up but he knows Nancy is gazing up at him with a surprised frown on her face. She's quiet for a moment and he sees the tension drop from her posture as well. The silence between them is peaceful and Billy's not hopeful but he does feel as if they've calmed down enough to not yell at each other anymore. And that's always a good thing... right?

"Tell him to stop pushing us away then." Is all she says softly before stepping aside to let him get past. 

Billy isn't sure if that flutter in his chest is relief or something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @hainethehero Hope you enjoyed. :)


	6. Because I Know Exactly What You'll Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy issues. That's it. That's the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back :3 Sighs, been hella busy with work. Hope you guys enjoy. 
> 
> P.S Just a side note, the Duffers have admitted that Billy was originally what Steve's character was planned out to be but since Joe was so precious they just couldn't do it. So, therefore my reasoning for having Steve's dad act like an asshole, because if Billy hadn't been introduced, Steve's dad would have been like Neil. And that's scary. 0_0

Because I Know Exactly What You'll Be 

 

It felt like the right time for an inner monologue; talking to himself while he pretended to be awake and attentive to the outside world. Why? Because this was some scary shit that he preferred not to be a part of. He wasn't a very sociable person nor was he big on authority figures and creepy adults who always seemed more like robots than actual human beings to him. But, here he fucking was; sitting at the posh kitchen counter with his hands folded neatly in his lap, carefully avoiding the hard, steely gaze of Harrington Sr. The man had just returned from Chicago; a business exploit. Judy had picked him up at the airport and had returned a little later than usual because they'd stopped to make groceries. 

John Harrington was a tall, sturdy man, good looking for his age with shiny, dark hair and hazel green eyes. His face was made up like his son's; sharp, cut jaw, lips that pouted a little- only Steve's pout was way cuter- and dark brows. But that's all he had in common with the brunette. Mr Harrington didn't have the soft, kind look in his eyes like Steve did. And he frowned much more heavily than Steve did. Whereas Steve would look as if he was brooding all the time, his father just looked like he was disapproving everything in front of him, including Billy. 

"So who are you again?" 

"John, I told you he's the volunteer-" Judy starts but is cut off by John who holds up a dismissive hand. 

"I mean your name boy." He says gruffly and Billy flinches at the tone. He can feel his heart hammering inside his chest and his throat tightens a bit. Neil was always aggressive towards him so he should've been used to this but John was the type of man to be passive aggressive... The kind that Neil used to be- waiting and biding his time until one day out of the blue, he'd smack or punch or kick Billy hard. Like a surprise attack. Now he just punched when he wanted to. 

"Billy Hargrove, Sir." He mutters, still not meeting the man's eyes. 

"Oh, sweetie there's no need for Sirs and Ma'ams here." Judy reassures him sweetly while John snorts. Shady. 

"Be a miracle if our son spoke with that kind of respect." He grumbles, digging into his briefcase. His tie is loosened and he's rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to the elbows. Billy narrows his eyes down at the floor and he feels his temper jolt a bit at the snide remark. Judy exclaims what he's thinking.

"John! Your son has been injured and laid up in bed for more than a week now. It's not the right time to act like that around him or his friends." 

John grumbles and brushes her off, pulling out a thick folder that Billy assumes is for work. She stomps off, leaving them both in the kitchen while she checked on Steve- who John hadn't even bothered to check on yet. And Billy thought Neil was bad. The bastard would have at least checked on him to remind him that he was a fuck up but... apparently Mr Harrington didn't give a damn. The man sips an iced tea Judy had brought for him and glances up at Billy. 

"So, you've been taking care of Steven?" He questions curtly and it feels like an interrogation. It sounds so impersonal, the way he refers to Steve. 

"Yes sir." He answers quickly and can't help the "sir" he tacks on at the end. 

Thanks Neil Hargrove. 

John sighs, shaking his head like he's disappointed.

"Falling down a stairs. Jesus. I swear that boy has cotton for brains. It's bad enough that he's a C- student at best, and now he has to go and do this- it's like he doesn't want to graduate." 

Billy's fists clench hard as he hears the same type of down-talk that Neil likes to hit him with and suddenly he feels protective of Steve. Steve's in his room fighting to keep the last shred of sanity he has left while his father talks about graduating and grades. 

"Wasn't his fault." He mutters, his voice still respectful but with a curt glint in it, as if he's on the defensive- which he totally is. 

"Sure, it wasn't his fault. He was probably looking up at the sky while walking. Tripped and fell." The comment is dry and tasteless and Billy's not sure if he can keep his calm much longer. 

"Why'd you volunteer? I'm sure there are other- better- things you could be doing in your spare time than taking care of an invalid." 

Billy clears his throat a bit testily and adjusts his slouching posture in his seat. He wasn't prepared to answer that question at all. And Steve's Dad was just as unnerving as Neil. They had that same hard-nosed way about them, with broad, sturdy shoulders and a puffed out chest. With Neil, it was always some pissing, macho contest; maybe it was the same with John and Steve. 

"Uh, I play basketball with him... in- at school. I heard uh... about what happened and decided to help. And I don't think he's an invalid." He chokes out, stammering like an idiot. He wants to punch himself. Really hard. 

"Hm. Basketball huh?"

"Yes sir." 

John eventually sighs and decides to stop being a hardass, going back to his papers and documents, designer cherrywood and gold pen in hand. 

"Well, thank you for taking the responsibility for my son. God knows he needs it. I'll see you around, Billy." 

John doesn't even look up as he starts scribbling down something on one of the papers, his voice dismissive and nonchalant. Billy winces at the word 'responsibility' but quickly grabs his bag anyway. He's getting an out, and he's not about to waste it. Just wants to get out of there as fast as possible. 

 

..................

 

Steve woke up the next morning with a killer headache that made him feel nauseous. He vaguely remembers Billy taking care of him and panics briefly as he recalls bits and pieces of what happened in the bathroom. Billy had seemed awfully cuddly last night... or was that just him? He remembers how warm and cozy Billy's chest had felt and how stupid-snuggly the boy's arms around his back made him feel. Not to mention, Billy had seen him naked- hell, he'd even helped him strip. Steve's cheeks burn as he lies back against his too warm pillows. Fuck. 

He blindly reaches out to the bedside table and flicks on the light. The soft orange glow is harsh against his retinas and he squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds; his head pulsating even more now. A little moan escapes his throat and he carelessly grabs the glass of water waiting patiently there for him. His mouth feels like sandpaper so he gulps down three-quarters of the glass, regretting it almost immediately. His stomach gurgles angrily at him as he flops back down onto his pillows. The sound of distinctive footfall makes him glance expectantly at the slightly ajar door to his room. That didn't sound like his mom. 

"Dad? Y- ...you're home?" 

His doesn't mean to sound like a little kid on Christmas but unfortunately, he can't help it. His voice groans a little and his eyes are wide in shock as the tall man steps into the room like a goddamn patrol police. Steve's used to the stern, offhanded mannerisms of his father so he doesn't mind it now. His throat gurgles a bit and he grins sheepishly. 

"Hey Dad." 

John doesn't answer for a while; instead checking around the room, steely eyes assessing the mess and closed windows. He shoves his hands into his pockets and raises a brow at his giddy-looking son. 

"Fell down the stairs, huh son?" 

Steve's grin starts to falter slowly as he hears the disappointed and condescending tone. He swallows nervously and runs a shaky hand through his hair. The blankets over him suddenly feel too hot and he squirms under them; squirms under his Dad's heavy stare. 

"Um... yeah... kinda slipped." He mutters, lowering his eyes to focus on his shaking hands. His fingers feel numb now and his stomach is turning. In his periphery, he can see the man shake his head. It's making him cringe with discomfort. 

"I thought that we had a plan son-" 

"I didn't plan to fall down the stairs!" Steve retorts defensively and his head throbs with how loud he says it. 

"Don't use that tone with me." John barks and Steve jumps a little. He starts closing in on himself, shoulders huddled and his head down. 

"We had a plan. You were going to stop fooling around and taking your work seriously. Then this happens! And I have to leave work to come here because your mother is in hysterics over you taking a little tumble." 

Every word makes Steve flinch away from his father's menacing tone and he feels scared. Black spots dance in front of his eyes again and his ears start ringing but he holds himself up. 

"Accident.... it... it was a... an accident." He chokes out thickly, his tongue like lead in his mouth. It's hard to breathe or swallow or do anything right now. 

"I don't care Steven! It's your own fault. You're too clumsy and careless. And now you're going to have to graduate in September after everyone else because of this! It's not like they can grant you early entrance to do the exams because you're failing everything anyway!" John yells and his voice grates on Steve's nerves. He feels the hot tears slip slowly down his ice cold cheeks and the contrasting temperatures make his skin feel feverish. 

"Where's mom?" He whines, his fingers gripping the blankets hard. Again, he sounds like a child and he hates it but right now, he needs her. He doesn't know why he needs her- He just needs... something. Someone. It's too much! His Dad yelling isn't helping him right now. 

"Your mother went out to get us dinner. She's just as disappointed in you as I am! You're wasting all the money and help we've invested in your future!" John scathes and the brutality in his tone is raw. He actually sounds like he hates his own son. 

Steve's head is spinning now and the base of his skull is reverberating with an intense heat. The deep voice is pounding in his head and he hears it echoing loudly. He tries crawling out of the bed but his arms and legs shiver under the pressure. 

"That's wh... what I am? An investment..." He chokes out bitterly, cold sweat beading on his forehead. 

"Don't get smart with me, Steven." John growls, getting in Steve's face. 

"You're too used to getting your own way-" 

"All I've ever had was my own way! Cause you've never been home!" Steve cries out, hands in his hair. 

"Quiet!"

"No!" 

"I said-" 

"The only reason you're so mad you had to come home is because you can't get to screw your secretary!" 

Steve gasps as soon as the words are out of his mouth and the shocked silence of his father tells him enough. He shouldn't have said that. His chest starts expanding and contracting harshly and he has to fight to breathe. He scrambles off the bed and falls to the floor. John follows him- grabs him by the hair. He grunts out harshly from the slap he receives, right across the face.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again." John seethes and Steve has to throw his entire body to the floor to get away from the man's strong grasp. 

"Steven!" 

He hears his father yell his name from in the distance but he doesn't stop. Just keeps crawling until he finds the strength to stand on his weak legs. His sweaty palms grab onto the polished railing of the stairs and he starts going down two by two. By some miracle he makes it past the front door and he stumbles down the stone pathway, scuffing his toes along the way. John keeps calling his name but he ignores him. The man could probably stop if he wanted to. But Steve knows he won't. 

The silence of the street around him suddenly makes him feel small. And cold. 

 

..............

 

"Did'ja get it?"

"Hell yeah." Billy grins, holding up a bottle of cheap whiskey in his hand with the fingerless gloves. He slides it easily back into the brown paper bag he'd also stolen from the corner store and chucks it safely in the backseat. Andre McKinney returns his mischievous grin and settles in the passenger's side. There was some house party at Ryan Gulak's place tonight and they were just about ready. Had the booze and Billy had his smokes, Andre would have to find his own. 

"You think Sabrina Larsen is gonna be there?" He mutters thickly through the cigarette in his mouth. The heat from the bright flame from his Zippo burns his eyes a little. 

"Pshh, damn right she's gonna be there. It's if she's gonna give you any." Andre snorts, lighting his own cigarette. 

 

"Shit, you're right." Billy chuckles at that and starts his car. The low rumbling of the engine growls louder as he floors the gas, following the white Chevy in front of them. That's Matt, Derek and Michael leading the way to Ryan's. Billy revs his engine and laughs out right when he sees the middle finger poke out on Derek's side. 

He planned to get fucking wasted tonight. As per usual; was kind of his routine after a tough night at the office. The office being home and the tough night being Neil. He wasn't even sure what he did this time but the man went off on him about responsibility and being a man and all that bullcrap. Surprisingly, he didn't throw a punch or get physically violent. Just seemed drunk and out of it. So, Billy left him to his own and decided to fuck off at Ryan's stupid party. Andre and the other guys were his basketball buddies and they were actually cool. Tommy and the rest were total dicks. 

"Jesus, I can't wait to get out of this place." Andre scoffs lowly, blowing smoke out the window. 

Billy sighs and shakes his head.

"Oh- come on man. Don't go all chick-flick on me." He grouses but there's a joking tone in his voice. 

Andre cackles and throws his head back, breathing in the fresh air coming through the window and the dusty cigarette smoke. They drive in comfortable silence until they reach a dark corner in the road. It's the uppity part of town where all the rich kids live. Billy knows the place like the back of his hand now that he's been taking care of Steve-

...which is why he instantly recognizes the small, shadowy figure slumped against a hard park bench just to his left. He does a double take anyway and then floors the brakes. Andre jolts in his seat and he freaks the fuck out. Understandably.

"The hell dude-!" 

"Sorry. Look, hitch a ride with Derek. I've gotta go." Billy cuts him off, sticking his hand out the window to signal Derek and the other two. The white Chevy slows down and Andre gets out. He's a cool dude, thank God. Just looks concerned and mildly irritated. 

"Everything oka-" 

"Jesus, yes man. I'm good, just... here." He answers distractedly, tossing the guy the stolen bottle of whiskey. The raised brow Andre gives him makes him roll his eyes. 

"Okay Hargrove... if you're sure." 

Billy grumbles and waves him off, making a three-pointer right there in the empty road. He catches Andre regretfully in his rearview mirror and sighs. His car rumbles to a stop at the park and he immediately gets out. The sulking figure is still there on the bench, covered- just barely, by a dark grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He quickly whips off his leather jacket and wraps it around Steve's shaking shoulders gently. 

"Steve, what- how... the hell are you doing out here?" He blurts out and frowns hard as Steve just blinks blankly at him with dark, wet eyes. He's shivering bad from the icy winds whipping all around them and his hair looks frazzled by it. His face is pale and his cheeks look hollow and sunken in. His lips are pale white and he keeps chewing on them to keep them from getting chapped. Billy glances up around them to see if Judy or his Dad is anywhere nearby but the street is cold and empty. 

"Steve, how did you get out here?" He asks softly, kneeling down in front of the boy to get a good look at him. Steve shakes his head and looks away. Billy sighs and stands up. 

"Alright, c'mon. I'll get you home-"

"No!" Steve shouts and Billy startles a little. He narrows his eyes curiously at the boy currently drowning in his jacket and then nods.

"Okay, okay. Hey, I won't take you back home but how about we get in the car hm? It's much warmer in there." He says softly, rubbing his hand slightly over Steve's back. The boy just shakes his head and rests his head back, closing his eyes. Billy can see glistening tear tracks on his smooth pale face and has a feeling something happened with him and his Dad. His blood gets heated almost instantaneously and he growls. And as easily as that growl comes, it goes away when Steve sniffles, a small squeak coming from his throat. 

He doesn't bother talking again. Just gathers Steve up in his arms and carries him back to the car. He's light... that's not surprising. He settles him in the passenger side before walking round to get in his own seat. His door slams and it jolts Steve a little. The heat is cranked on full blast as they drive further and further away from suburbia. 

Steve's asleep within two minutes. 

And Billy's never played his radio so quietly before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for replying to your wonderful comments so late but I do enjoy them and your love for this story. I love you guys!


	7. Lost And Insecure, You Found Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy helps Steve... or is it the other way around?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been busy but here you go :)

Lost And Insecure, You Found Me 

 

The freezing air held a stand-still over the small town of Hawkins, the black velvet sky rid off any kind of starlight. On the cliff over looking the great Hawkins quarry, the horizon seems non-existent; the dark profile of the forest's canopy blending into the blackness of the sky making the town appear much larger than it actually was. It was a black hole that sucked everything into its abyss- Billy's energy and resolve included. He sighed, exhaling a billowing, frosty whisper of smoke through his nostrils. His eyes were heavy with something akin to sleep despite the fact that he felt alive and wired at the moment. 

His nerves were alight and his skin felt heated; a feverish contrast against the chilly air around him. He could feel the goosebumps raise across his exposed arms. His jacket was still wrapped around Steve Harrington- the boy now lying in the backseat of his car. His eyes slide over to the snoozing lump through the window and Billy can't help but feel sorry for him. His father was a jerk- just like Neil. Billy would've never known that though; with the way Steve acted. Like everything was fine. Like he was okay and happy all the fucking time when really- he's dying on the inside. Because Nancy Wheeler dumped him for Byers and he lost all his friends. Because he got demoted by the new kid in town. And because he got beaten to a pulp by said kid until he got brain damaged. 

Fuck.

As much as Billy wanted to be righteous and hate John Harrington- and he still did- he just couldn't find it within himself to lie about it. Hell, he had been as much a part of Steve's downfall as Wheeler, Byers and John. It wouldn't be right, standing here and judging anyone but himself right now. Steve wouldn't have been in this position if Billy had just walked away that night. Didn't matter that he would've gotten some licks from Neil- it wasn't worth the pain Steve was going through. 

Not ever. 

He drops his dying cigarette and smashes it into the sandy ground with his boot to put it out. The wind's picking up steadily and he's starting to shiver. Sliding into the front seat, he relishes in the warmth and the soft sounds of Steve's snores inside the car. The boy is curled up tightly into himself, Billy's smoky jacket bundled up in his arms like a favorite stuffed animal. The dark grey sweatpants he's got on is slack on his waist, slipping down a little to reveal sharp, creamy hipbones that make Billy feel things. They're prettier than any hips he's ever seen on a girl- fuck, Steve's prettier than any other girl in this hick town. 

No- no. 

Billy shakes his head and turns around, refusing to be swayed by Steve's gorgeous body. But... his skin did look glowing and pale like marble under the moonlight that's shining in through the window. He imagines the way that smooth skin felt on his fingertips when he'd carried the boy to the bathtub. Steve had been stark naked in his arms and he'd been respectful that time because of the situation. But, now that he's got the time, his mind allows him to reminisce on just how intimate that moment had been. And he's seriously doubting himself now. 

Steve Harrington? 

Billy Hargrove....

Yeah, hell no. 

He'd messed around with a couple guys back in Cali but, all that had stopped when he moved in with Neil. The man didn't find out, thank God but, Billy knew how to play his cards. If Neil had found out about his little trysts with the beach boys back home, he would've skinned him alive. So, whatever Billy thought he was feeling for Harrington right now? Yeah, that couldn't happen. 

Ever. 

Steve let's out a little whine behind him and he turns back again, eyes scanning the boy to make sure nothing's wrong. Steve is still asleep, his dark lashes fanning out over his prominent cheekbones. Billy follows the roll of his Adam's apple as he swallows before burying his nose further into the leather jacket. His. Leather. Jacket. Usually Billy would've felt uncomfortable without it but, looking at how comfortable Steve looked with it, he couldn't seem to find the heart to care. The boy could keep his jacket forever if he wanted to. 

"Billy?" 

The soft murmur makes Billy deliberately blink twice, hard. In the darkness of his car he can barely make out Steve's face but the flutter of pretty long lashes lets him know the boy's awake. 

"Hey- ...bad dream?" 

Billy's never heard his own voice sound so soft and careful before. 

Steve nods his head almost imperceptibly and hugs the leather jacket tighter to his chest. 

"Monsters..." He murmurs into the material and Billy can't help but find it endearing. Steve starts to shiver though, even with the heater and Billy's jacket, he's extremely cold. Billy swallows nervously and frowns a bit sadly at the boy.

"You mean... monsters like- ...monsters like me?" He mutters, his head down because he can't look at Steve right now.

"So cold." Steve suddenly whines and his voice is a soft rattle. The left side of his face is doing that twitching thing again, and both of his hands are in his hair now. He looks small. And scared. 

"The heater's on full blast and you have my jacket." He reasons, not knowing what else to do. He's never felt this helpless since his mom died. He doesn't want to overstep his boundaries but he also doesn't want Steve to freeze to death. Doesn't know when he became Steve's watchdog and what's even more bizarre- he doesn't feel as cold as Steve does. The heater was doing it's job. 

But, Steve keeps shaking, his teeth chattering until Billy has no choice but to slide into the backseat. He hears Steve stuttering out a soft, "what are you doing?" as he settles comfortably against the leather backrest, his arms folding over Steve's small frame. He hears a relaxed sigh whisper from Steve's lips and can feel the way the boy practically melts back into his hold. 

"Keeping you warm." He mutters into Steve's soft, brown locks that smelled a lot like that vanilla thing he liked. Billy closed his eyes and just rested there, his chest contracting and expanding against Steve's back- he could practically feel the other boy's heartbeat. It kind of felt like a lifeline of peace being extended to him after the crazy night he'd had and he wasn't shy or anything but he felt quite hesitant to let Steve's body be a source of comfort. He didn't deserve that. Sure as hell didn't earn it. 

Steve sounds so young and innocent when he softly calls his name. And Billy doesn't hesitate to respond just as gently. 

"Billy?" 

"Hm?" 

"You're not a monster." 

His heart fucking stops then and he can hear the blood rushing past his ears, the entire world seemingly silent as if waiting to hear Steve repeat himself. And try as he might, but Billy couldn't keep the tears from spilling over his lids, dripping warmly onto Steve's cheek. Steve, of course in his semi-conscious state doesn't register any of what's happening right next to him and Billy's never been more grateful. He swallows thickly and wipes the tears off the boy's smooth cheek. 

"You don't know what you're saying." He rumbles into Steve's ear and his heart skips a beat when Steve nuzzles into his touch. Shaky and fragile hands grab the one he has on Steve's waist and pull it tighter over him. His crotch is pressing into Steve's behind now and their legs become intertwined- almost like lovers do. 

"Actually I do. I think- ...I think I'm actually thinking clearly for the first time in a long time." Steve whispers, more to himself than Billy. 

"Then you're mistaken. I'm every bit the monster you and your friends think I am." Billy rumbles and he tries to keep the soft sobs out of his voice but fails. Steve's little fingers clench tighter around his hand and the boy sniffles a bit.

"No. If you were then you wouldn't have taken care of me after everything. And you do it so well..." He murmurs in wonder. 

"I've had years of practice." Billy huffs And it doesn't sound bitter; just retrospective. 

"Really?" 

"Mhm. My uh... my mom wasn't too right in the head, so, sometimes she'd need looking after. Wasn't anything really... I just made sure she showered and ate and slept when she needed it..."

"Mmm, that must've been hard..."

"No, it wasn't. I never complained once-" 

"I meant seeing her like that... that must've did a number on you huh?" Steve's voice is soft and it isn't cruel. It sounds empathetic even though it seems somewhat detached. Billy appreciates that. He rests his nose right in Steve's neck and closes his teary eyes. The soft, yearning whine that escapes him makes Steve turn around to look at him. His doe-eyes are pools of dark honey. He raises a hand and places it right on Billy's cheek, fingers catching the cold tears that fall. Billy gazes down at him and suddenly he doesn't feel so angry or scared anymore. His dad, his life, Nancy- hell, his injuries.... 

"You're not a monster Billy. You've just... been through a lot." 

Billy hears those words and the feeling of euphoria that reverberates out of him feels like a mountain of mist shattering from his body. He sobs out loud this time, clenching his teeth and burying his face into Steve's chest. The boy wraps his arms around Billy's neck and lets him cry. No judgement. No reason. Just understanding silence. 

He's not forgiven. 

But this sure as hell feels damn close to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and #HarringroveForever lol that was lame but watevs


	8. Dusk Till Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll hold you when things go wrong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't sleep. Wrote another.

Dusk Till Dawn

 

Steve can still feel the lingering traces of powerful, inhuman jaws sinking into his chest when he wakes up. His eyes are bright and wide with fear and he's cold sweating. He feels a heavy but warm weight on top of him and blinks a few times trying to get his bearings. He's lying down in the backseat of a car... a blue Camaro with a cream interior to be exact. The vehicle is surprisingly clean and well-kept despite the heavy smell of cigarette smoke and spicy cologne. The seat, though covered in leather is soft and buttery under him and he squirms a bit to get more comfortable. Billy Hargrove is a deadweight on top of his smaller frame and he go-

What the fuck Billy Hargrove is sleeping cluelessly on top of him! 

Memories of last night floods his muddled mind and he gasps softly, remembering everything they'd said and whispered and sobbed to each other. His cheeks burn with embarrassment and he feels a tiny, soft smile tugging at his lips. Some of Billy's golden curls are falling onto his cheek and he twists an index finger in one of the cute strands. He can feel the other boy's warm breath tickling his neck, Hargrove's face buried right there, snoozing peacefully. He shifts his hips a little and gulps nervously, feeling Billy's knee between his spread legs. It doesn't feel sexual or anything akin to that though it should have been. But Steve is surprised that he doesn't feel weird about the whole situation. Billy's strong arm is wrapped around his tummy while the other one is probably squashed under the weight of his own body. Steve touches the muscled bicep close to him and nearly giggles when it twitches. 

The soft, black cotton t-shirt Billy has on feels nice against Steve's exposed skin as his own shirt had ridden up during the night; but Steve isn't fazed by that. He's more fascinated by the fact that he's never seen Billy in just a t-shirt before... without his jacket-

My jacket...

Steve hears the petulant and spoiled retort in his head and snorts at himself. Sure, that leather jacket belonged to Billy but... Steve wanted it. It was his dammit! He'd gotten to sleep with it all night and it was comforting and nice and soft and smoky and- where the hell was it? His eyes scanned all around him, looking for the black leather but couldn't find it. It wasn't under him, wasn't on Billy... Jesus, Hargrove was heavy! He let out a little growl at the sleeping boy and poked at his ear. Billy just grumbled sleepily and went back to snoring. Steve rolled his eyes and poked again- harder. 

"Fuck- ow! Hey!" 

He smiled smugly as the other boy startled awake, raising up from his neck to hover over him. Billy's electric blue eyes glare at him through narrowed lids and he'd look more threatening if he hadn't just woken up. His eyes were sleepy and his hair was smushed and tangled and he just looked like a mildly pissed off teddy bear. Which, of course made Steve chuckle brightly up at him. Hargrove's sour face suddenly smoothed out and looked apologetic as he gazed down at Steve now, their noses almost touching. 

"Hey... you're awake..." The boy rasps, his voice thick with sleep. Steve nods, acutely aware that Billy's hand is now subconsciously rubbing his tummy. The warm fingertips scraping across his bare skin making him shiver. 

"Can't find my jacket." He murmurs, his hand still on Billy's bicep. The mrrow of surprise that escapes Billy's throat is comical.

"Your jacket?" 

Steve's hackles rise and he pouts at Billy pointedly. He's starts doing that puppy-dog thing with his huge, soft-brown doe-eyes and he knows no one can resist them. Not even the great Billy Hargrove. It's hilarious the way Billy's resolve just crumbles in seconds and he just sighs and buries his face in Steve's neck again. His hand reaches down somewhere in the footwell of the car and he pulls up the creased leather jacket. Steve smiles happily and makes grabby hands at the thing. Billy smushes it into the boy's face and snickers out right when Steve splutters in surprise. 

"Ow." Steve grouses, rubbing at his nose but otherwise smug about the fact that he had the jacket now. 

"You're heavy y'know." He mutters, balling up the jacket and hugging it close to his chest. Billy grumbles above him and he can feel it vibrate against his shoulder. The blonde starts to get up but Steve reaches out a tentative hand to touch his shoulder. Billy stares down at him with an uneasy heat in his eyes and Steve can only gaze up at the boy pleadingly. Billy's breathing goes all low and husky and Steve swallows nervously. His fingers play idly with the leather in his hands and he can't bring himself to let go of Billy's shoulder. The boy's knee is still between his legs and he brings up his left leg to brush up against it. 

He feels when Billy stiffens against him, muttering a soft "stop" but Steve doesn't stop. Doesn't want to. He wants this... whatever 'this' is. Billy reaches down and traces his lips with his finger and Steve whines low in his throat. His lips tingle under the rough pad of the blonde's finger and he nervously swipes his tongue across the soft skin. He feels a gentle thumb finger slide under his eye, where a dark bruise is trying its best to fade away. Billy looks ashamed and he looks away but Steve's not having any of it. 

"Look at me." He begs softly, reaching up with both hands and bringing Billy's gaze back on him. The boy stares him down now and Steve smiles timidly. He holds it until something like a ghost of a smile graces Billy's lips. 

"I don't deserve this." Billy whispers, bringing up one of Steve's hands to his lips, kissing the pale knuckles gently. Steve purrs under the attention before shaking his head. 

"I'm not giving you anything you didn't earn." He says softly, his body undulating deliciously as Billy presses his entire body over him, all of his weight on Steve's. Steve wraps his legs around Billy's waist and grunts quietly when Billy pulls him closer, their lips touching but not kissing. He feels the other boy's hand in his hair and closes his eyes. They didn't have to kiss; this was even more magical than kissing. Billy's fingers stroke his scalp indulgently and the boy snorts softly as Steve purrs again like a cat. 

"You're so spoiled." Billy murmurs against his lips and Steve can't help but squeak in delight. He opens his eyes, stares down Billy meaningfully and pecks him on the lips. Billy blinks in surprise, his wide blue eyes shining down at the cute brunette. 

"M'hungry." Steve mumbles, feeling Billy kiss him back. He's grinning as he says it and Billy plants another kiss on his jaw. He giggles as a rain of light pecks follow that initial kiss, all over his face and his neck. He squirms under the blonde and pushes at him.

"Okay sto- stop! That tickles!" He chokes out, a hand coming over Billy's whole frigging face. The boy just chuckles and pulls away, a bit sad playtime was over. Steve sits up with him and feels dizzy for a moment. He holds a hand out against the door and Billy's steady hand on his shoulder brings him back. 

"You alright?" 

The soft enquiry is loaded with curiosity, sincerity and shame and Steve doesn't have to look to see the acute sorrow and regret in Billy's eyes. He hears it in his voice and it hurts. He wants to forgive the other boy so bad- but it didn't feel right. It's not like he was trying to make Billy suffer. He just couldn't. Billy had made up for most of what he'd done so far but it was hard not to feel resentful when he was still temporarily brain damaged and missing out on his life. 

"I... I'm okay." Steve mutters, looking down at his lap as Billy gets out of the car and walks around to get in the front seat. He closes the door shut and pulls out a cigarette, feeling up his pockets for his Zippo. The white stick hangs carelessly out of his mouth as he searches, Steve observing him quietly from the back, leather jacket in his hands. 

"Billy-" Steve says softly but Billy flicks his Zippo, the bright flame lighting up his cigarette. He breathes the smoke in.

"You're hungry right? There's a diner over at the edge of town. Grove's or somethin." His voice isn't mean but it's not soft and caring like it was before. It's deflective. Steve sighs and nods absently, settling in the seat as Billy starts the car up. He can see the tense veins showing up on the blonde's hands as he navigates the steering wheel and he doesn't feel so fuzzy inside anymore. They had a lot to restore before ever becoming really close like Steve suddenly craved. 

 

...............

 

"Lemme just get a black coffee and that fancy waffle thing you always make." Billy mutters to the smiling blonde lady serving them. Steve eyes the nametag on her red and white diner uniform and nods politely at her. Margaret. 

"I'll have the same and a strawberry milkshake please." 

She eyes his disheveled state and he pulls the leather jacket around him tighter. He was still in his grey sweatpants and the white t-shirt- not exactly appropriate so he'd decided to throw on the jacket over himself. It was a little big for him so it felt baggy on his shoulders but he liked it that way. He blushed when he saw Billy's eyes following every fit and curve of the leather on his body. 

"Okay, two waffle delights, a black coffee and a strawberry milkshake. Coming right up." 

When she leaves, they sit in awkward silence for a while, Steve playing with the salt and pepper shakers idly and Billy staring out the window while chewing on his thumb. The boy looks lost in deep thought and it's almost like Steve can see the tiny gears grinding in his head. He keeps staring until Billy looks over at him and raises a questioning brow, causing him to look away guiltily. 

"Are you okay?" Billy asks, concerned but keeping his tone professional. Steve hates it. Doesn't feel comfortable with it. Not after this morning- well, earlier, as it was still morning. He nods and looks away, noticing Margaret coming back with their orders. He's grateful for the interruption. She sets them up and then goes about her way, taking orders or giving them to the other workers. They're in silence again until halfway through their breakfast when Billy starts talking. 

"I'll take you home after this." He says quietly and Steve blanches. 

"Uh... no- I mean... I can spend the day with you." He stutters, face reddening as Billy eyes him suspiciously. 

"I've got things to do. And I have to head home." He informs and Steve can feel the waffles churning uncomfortably in his stomach. 

"Maybe I can come home with you..." He tries again but Billy cuts him off with a quick "no". He deflates and frowns sadly at his half-drunk milkshake. 

"What happened last night?" Billy suddenly asks and Steve freezes. He shakes his head quickly and dismissively. 

"Nothing." He mutters and Billy snorts.

"Didn't seem like nothing. Why don't you want to go home Steve?" Billy tries again and Steve can feel his eyes mist annoyingly. He scratches at his nose idly and starts eating again. He hears Billy sigh and knock his legs against his feet under the table. He startles and drops his fork. Billy has the audacity to look ashamed. 

"Sorry- look, does it have something to do with your Dad?" The blonde asks gently, carefully and that makes Steve glare up at him. 

"Ho- ...how did you..." He chokes out and Billy sighs, dropping down his fork and leaning back against his chair as if he'd known all along. The boy looks pissed and Steve gulps warily. 

"I spoke to him. Or it was more like, he... talked to me and I just listened. He's a hardass huh?" Billy says lowly, his eyes on the napkin in his hands. Steve shakes his head and then nods. 

"Yeah." 

Billy doesn't say anything for a while and continues eating instead. So, Steve's Dad is an asshole. Turns out he wasn't the only one with Daddy issues. He feels bad for Steve but, at least he had a mother who cared about him. To deflect him from his father's wrath. But he didn't have any of that. There was no buffer between him and Neil. Steve had Judy and even if John was a hardass, he didn't seem as bad as Neil. Or maybe that was Billy trying his damnest not to find out the truth. A little yelling wouldn't prompt Steve to just run out of his own house- especially with his legs all uncoordinated and his brain all muddled. He sighed, closing his eyes.

"What happened with you and him, Steve?" 

His voice is quiet but resolute and powerful. He sees Steve huddle in on himself and start to shiver and he's at the boy's side in a second. Steve sobs quietly and Billy wraps a careful arm around him. The smaller frame shakes from the sobs in his arms and Billy clenches his jaw. 

"What did he do?" He murmurs into the boy's hair and Steve presses closer to him. He shakes his head at first but the small murmur of "please" from Billy has him wiping at his eyes and confessing in an instant. 

"I shouldn't- ...shouldn't have said it-" He chokes out, rubbing at his left cheek hard. Billy frowns but presses on, a gentle hand pulling Steve's fingers from digging into his own face. 

"Shouldn't have said what? Hmm?" He murmurs, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Steve's ear. Steve sniffles loudly, taking a napkin and dabbing at the wetness on his face. He tosses it away after when he realizes that it's not helping.

"He was mad at me... I know he didn't want to come home to be there for me... he never- never cared. He got mad and started yelling so- I told him he was just angry that he couldn't get a chance to screw his secretary." He sobbed, leaning against Billy's chest. 

Billy frowned. "So he yelled at you?" 

Steve scoffed and pushed away from Billy. 

"He smacked me." He sighed, pointing at the cheek he'd been scraping at. The redness was barely there but when Billy looked closer, he could make out the lightly swollen welt. He could feel his entire body seize up immediately, nothing in his head but the thought of Steve's dad hitting him. 

"He hit you." His voice was dark and cloaked under a fine veil of insanity. 

Steve glanced up at Billy and couldn't see any expression on his face. Then again, it could've been the tears blurring his eyes. He touched the boy's arm cautiously and gasped when steely blue eyes glared up at him. He almost backed away in fear but then Billy's hands were touching his bruised face so gently, that he paused.

"I shouldn't have said what I did." He murmured, holding the larger hands that were on his face. 

"That doesn't give him the right to-"

Try as he might, Billy couldn't and wouldn't dare finish or defend that sentence. How could he? There goes his self-righteousness again. Trying to be some kind of hero when in fact, all he was, was a sob story. How could he sit there and lie through his teeth and tell poor Steve that a little back talk didn't give his father the right to smack him? How could he say that when Neil would beat the crap out of him if he even looked at him different? What a joke he was; sitting there acting like he was new to abuse. 

Steve was though. 

He could see the fear and the abject sadness in the boy's pretty eyes as he sat there, dejected and broken. Billy's not sure if he remembers how he'd felt when Neil first beat up on him, but he imagines it would be something akin to finding out your entire life has been a lie. Steve had been used to neglect for so long that, processing the attention of abuse from his father had traumatized him. Worse yet, in his current mental state, none of it was good for him at the moment. 

"C'mon." He murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down Steve's arm to warm him up a little and stop him from shaking. He tosses a few dollar bills on the table and helps Steve get to his feet. His coordination showed small signs of improvement but he still needed help standing. They left and sat down in the Camaro, a soft silence growing between them. Steve goes back to the backseat and curls up on it, hugging Billy's- former, leather jacket. He looks sad and scared and Billy can feel his heart clench in his chest. 

 

............

When Steve wakes up, the car has stopped moving. In fact, he's not even in the car anymore. His eyes blink a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room he's in. The bed he's lying on is soft and warm and smells a lot like something he knows. Smoke, leather and woodsy cologne. He whines softly realizing that he's probably in Billy Hargrove's room. He stretches hard like a cat whose exhausted from doing nothing all day and then curls up again under the incredibly soft blankets. The pillow under his head smells like Billy's hair; sweet like some kind of hairspray that's not Farah Fawcett. But it's still pleasant and he wastes no time burying his nose in the material. 

The door- ruined by a poster of some porn star in a red bikini that Steve's sure he's seen before suddenly opens- revealing none other than Billy. Steve feels himself get heated steadily as his eyes take in the black gym shorts and the sleeveless white muscle shirt. He gets a good eyeful of well-trained biceps and lightly suntanned skin and it takes a while for him to meet Billy's eyes. The boy smiles nervously at him before walking into the room. 

"Hey." He greets a bit awkwardly and Steve's never heard him sound so shy before. It's endearing. 

"Hey." Steve answers with a soft grin, feeling like a total dork. 

"You didn't take me home." 

It's an observation... or more like a declaration of relief. Not an accusation. Billy nods, taking up residence on the bed right next to Steve. He's got one leg up on the bed while the other one is planted on the floor. His elbow rests on his knee as he glances down at the brunette. 

"No. I figured here was better than sleeping another day in the backseat of a car." He jokes weakly, fingers plucking idly at a loose thread in the blanket covering the other boy. Steve grins softly to himself and leans up, resting his head on his hand that's propped up by his elbow. 

"What about your folks? They know I'm here?" He asks, following the way Billy's long lashes flutter as he looks around the room distractedly. 

"My Dad's at a retreat they host for veterans every year at the Pines Lodge in Cali. He left a note." Billy answers and he looks devastatingly relieved. Who wouldn't be happy, right?

"How long is he gone for?" 

"Usually goes on for a couple of weeks." Billy answers honestly, shrugging. 

"And what about Max?" 

"At her grandparents for the weekend with her mom- my step-mom." 

Steve's brow raises a little at that but he doesn't say anything. Just goes back to stretching like a cat under the soft blanket. He turns the other way, his back to Billy. 

"I like your bed." He murmurs, yawning tiredly. 

The mattress sinks a little when Billy lies down and Steve can feel his heart picking up the pace. He can feel a snuggly warmth reverberating behind him but Billy keeps a good distance between them. 

"It's alright." Billy mutters absently, staring up at the ceiling of his room. It's white and smooth and completely void of any water stains. The white bulb shines from the center of the ceiling, bathing the room in a soft, white glow. His mind is doing it's best to distract him from the fact that he has someone else in his bed at the moment but it's quickly failing. It doesn't help that the person is Steve Harrington. Not at all. Billy's never even had a girl over at his house before. And none had ever been good enough to share his bed, as corny as that sounded. All of his sexcapades happened in cars and alleyways or behind the movie theater. Or under the bleachers. The point was, no one has ever been in his bed before. 

Now, here came this beautiful brunette, slowly drifting in and out of consciousness, pretty little head on his pillow and warm body snug under his favorite dark blue blanket. On his favorite side of the bed. Still draped in his leather jacket. Jesus. He felt like one of those unlovable, inhuman beasts that had become soft after being tamed by an all too human beauty. That's when he realized that Steve Harrington had him wrapped around his little finger. He blamed it on his guilt for injuring the boy but deep down he knew it was more than that. His feelings ran way deeper than that. Steve had become a part of his life just as Hawkins had. Forcing his way into Billy's heart until he had no other choice but to accept it. 

"Can I-" Steve whispers softly but Billy can hear it clearly in the silence of the room. The pause after 'I' makes Billy look over at the boy again, eyes taking in the way the white t-shirt hangs off his skinny frame. He can hear the genuine hope in Steve's voice and he sighs, knowing he'd only be hurting himself. 

He concedes anyway. 

"Yeah." 

A minute passes before Steve moves at all, squirming until he's pressed up closely into Billy's side, his head on that firm chest, a small hand resting on the boy's stomach. He hears- no, feels Steve breathe out as if he'd been nervous all the time and relax into his side. Billy let's his right arm come around the boy's shoulder, holding him close. Steve's fingers dance tenderly against his t-shirt and he feels his stomach clench from too many butterflies. How the hell could such a small boy make him feel so weak? 

"Thank you." Steve sighs, a leg draped over Billy's thighs. 

Steve probably doesn't mean to get so personal with his space but Billy can feel himself tensing. This feels so much different that the backseat of a car. Usually, the old Billy wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. But everything was so different now. He lowers his head and nudges Steve's hair with his nose, taking in the soft, vanilla scent of the boy. 

"You can stay here as long as you want. I- ... I know it's not what you're used to... but- y'know..." He rasps and he feels Steve tremble a little. The boy absently draws mindless, imaginary doodles on his chest with his fingers, making his index and middle trek up the hill of muscle until it reaches Billy's neck, chin and then his lips. Billy kisses the soft pads of the boy's fingers before holding the hand in his. Steve finally looks up at him and smiles nervously, his eyes wet. 

"It's better than home." 

"I'm right here." Billy whispers, wiping at the stray tear that slides down pretty boy's face. 

"Please don't cry." 

Steve swallows and holds the hand wiping away tears on his face.

"I can't- hate seeing you cry." 

His words are the most honest he's ever spoken and it makes him feel things he hasn't felt in a long time. Things he'd buried ever since he left San Diego to move to Bakersfield. Steve made him feel like the old him again. The one who loved and cared and lived life like a normal teen before his life got fucked six ways from Sunday. He hates seeing Steve hurting. It's funny how it's become his kryptonite; how quickly things could change in this cold and unforgiving world. 

Steve intertwined their fingers and Billy stares at it thoughtfully. 

"I'm here." He murmurs and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him. 

A soft moan escapes both of them and they don't break apart for another minute and a half. It's beautiful and passionate and goddamn it's the fucking best thing he's ever tasted. Steve's mouth just opens submissively for his invading tongue and they kiss and kiss until they're both breathless. Billy pulls away before Steve suffocates himself and thumbs at the boy's swollen red lips. 

"You are beautiful, Steve Harrington." 

Steve smiles timidly and rests his head against Billy's chest again. 

 

Despite the fact that it's not a king size and the room is just a bit smaller and stuffier than his own-

...he never wants to leave that bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed. Love the suppprt. Keep it up!


	9. Priceless Work of Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in the Hargrove house. Steve feels wonderful, living with Billy. It's all domestic, fluffy crap but ill seems to like it just as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final year has been kicking my ass :( but ill be fine. Enjoy.

Priceless Work of Art 

 

Steve wakes up to the sound of clattering plates and softly clinking glasses. He frowns and burrows deeper into the mound of blankets on top of him. The air is chilly in Billy's room and a few glowing shards of soft, buttery sunlight lights up the space. He sits up abruptly and leans back on his hands, disheveled bed-head and all. His dark eyes take in the scene in front of him with a child-like curiosity. Until a few days ago, the boy had been nothing but an unexpected mystery for him. It was surprising to Steve since he'd always subscribed to the notion that Billy was the what-you-see-is-what-you-get type of guy. He acted loud and obnoxious and was all-around aggressive to everyone he came into contact with. It seemed so authentic to be a front but, apparently, there was more to Billy than booze, bitches and blow. 

The room was neat, save for a few pieces of stray clothes lying strewn all over the floor near to a closet. There was a work desk at the furthest corner, near the window where the sunlight was penetrating the drawn blinds. Stacks of loose papers, an array of coloured pens and some pencils decorated the wooden surface. The eraser dust Steve's eyes made out gave the impression that Billy was actually very studious. A thick history text book was opened right next to the pages and Steve's brow raised, impressed. He yawns and turns his head to peer at the dresser to his left. A collection of bottles and glass atomizers are stacked on the thing looking like a cluster of buildings in New York or something. He catches a can of hairspray and grins widely to himself, rolling his eyes.

Pretty boy. 

He slides off Billy's jacket that he's been wearing for a while now and sticks it under one of the pillows. Billy's still out there doing God knows what and Steve doesn't want to stay in bed all day. His head feels light and it's dizzying for a moment but he knows his body is healing. He doesn't feel so sick and downy anymore. Maybe a little depressed because he basically ran away from home and had taken up residence in someone else's- but, ...he'd hopefully get over that soon. His lips tingle at the thought of kissing Billy last night and he feels all warm and fuzzy inside. 

Slowly and cautiously he places his feet flat on the ground, the hardwood floor chilly against his soles. He takes a deep breath before pushing against the mattress, using it as a launching pad to push himself off his ass. He stands for all of five seconds before his knees start buckling and he's sitting again with a loud gasp. Growling quietly at himself, he tries for a second time, gingerly balancing the weight on his feet and not so much his thighs. He could flex those muscles all he wanted but if his feet weren't holding up any of him, then trying to walk didn't make a whole lotta sense. 

The spiralling dizziness clears from in front of his eyes and he sucks in a harsh breath again. Jesus, he hadn't even taken a step yet and he's already exhausted. Sounds a lot like doing coursework assignments, he quips, amusing himself. Naturally, when he walks, it's always the right foot first- so he's a bit shocked when his left leg kicks out before the right one does. He can feel his brain spasm a bit; as if there'd been a glitch in his wiring. His heart drops and he freezes in that position; one foot out and one in, like those friggin "walk" signs. He wasn't aware of just how bad his coordination had become. 

Billy did that. 

Grunting sharply he steadies himself and takes another step. It's all about taking one at a time so that he doesn't overwhelm his cognitive circuits. Like kindergarten all over again. One step... two steps... three- you're falling! 

His hands reach out in reflex to hold on to something and he startles when his fingers clench into the soft material of a t-shirt. 

"Whoa- hey, hey, easy." 

Suddenly, Billy's there holding him close, murmuring soft words of encouragement to take it easy and not hurt himself. He lets his guard down for just a second and Billy has to think fast and grip him tightly round the waist before he collapses. His legs give out and he whines in embarrassment, burying his face in Billy's chest. Hot tears sting his eyes and run down his face; he's not opposed to wiping them on Billy's shirt. 

"Hey, it's okay. You're... gonna be okay." Billy mutters to him, tensing his own body to help hold Steve up. 

"No I'm not." Steve growls bitterly and he knows Billy's guilt by the way the boy freezes next to him. He has a small voice in his head thinking "serves you right, Hargrove" in the most spiteful way possible but he ignores it. Being bitter and hateful right now isn't going to make him any better. And he has to acknowledge the fact that Billy's actually helping. 

"M'sorry." Billy apologizes into his hair and he sags tiredly in the boy's arms.

"It's fine... I was just... trying-" The "to walk" remains silent but it's still so damn loud. Billy's fingers clench around his arm but he says nothing. 

"I was making breakfast." The blonde mutters, stroking Steve's hair tenderly. The boy purrs under the meaningful strokes but shakes his head. 

"Can I eat after I take a shower?" 

*

An hour later, after a few embarrassing moments of Billy helping a very naked Steve into the tub, Steve feels clean and refreshed and soft and smooth all over. He's drowning in one of Billy's old band t-shirts that was way too big for either of them- Billy said it was a gift from his mom; but Steve could care less. He's wearing something that feels, smells and looks like Billy Hargrove. It's quickly becoming another item of Billy's that Steve wants to steal from the boy. He smiles quietly to himself as Billy towel dries his hair, firm hands working gently through the long, wet brunette strands. 

"Feel better now?" Billy whispers softly in his ear, tossing the wet towel aside and running his fingers through Steve's now-damp hair. 

Steve grins and leans back against him, relishing in the steady weight of the hard muscles against his back. It makes him feel safe. Protected. And he appreciates that.

"Mhm. I smell like you now." He teases, reaching down and tugging at the hem of the dark blue shorts Billy had also given him to wear. It was a bit short on him.They had gotten a little fitted for Billy especially after he'd started working out and putting on muscle, so, it fit Steve's coltish, Bambi legs perfectly. When he'd slipped it on, the soft material brushing deliciously against his legs and thighs, Billy's face had turned red and Steve couldn't help but feel a little thrilled. Didn't matter that he had on shorts though; the dark grey band t-shirt covered up most of it. 

"You do smell like me. I like it." Billy chuckles into his neck, planting a soft and innocent butterfly kiss there. Steve giggles in his arms and almost slips off the bed. 

"Of course you would. What's better than cigarette smoke by DuMaurier, right?" He jokes pulling both of Billy's arms around him in a comforting embrace. He can hear Billy chuckling softly, lips pressed right up to his ear and he commits the sound to memory. It's all he ever wants to remember about the other boy. 

"For your information, Steven, it's called Marlboro and it's the best thing out right now. Trust me, all the boys are wearing it." 

"You mean- all the bad boys are wearing it." Steve smiles feeling Billy lift him up in his arms, bridal style, carrying them both to the living room. 

"Yeah, that's right. All the bad boys are wearing it. You only smell like that because you're in this bad boy's clothes." Billy boasts indulgently, Steve feather-light in his arms. The brunette is laughing outright in amusement. 

"And if I weren't in your clothes?" Steve giggles as Billy sets him down gently on the couch. 

"You'd smell like a hundred roses. Or strawberries- no- ...vanilla! You like that soft, sweet thing." Billy assesses, leaning down to plant a kiss on Steve's forehead.

"Oh yeah?" Steve pushes, sitting up, trying to follow Billy's kisses but the boy's already standing upright again. He pouts a bit, sitting there on the couch wiggling his toes. 

"Yeah. Cos you're a Princess. A spoiled."

Kiss.

"Little."

Another kiss.

"Princess." 

The final kiss lands on his lips and it's the softest damn kiss Steve's ever received. Steve blinks up dumbly at the boy with big dark eyes with a goofy smile on his face. 

"I promised you breakfast." Billy whispers and then leaves to go get it from the kitchen. Steve takes the time to wonder how the hell any of this was happening and can't help but feel giddy about the whole thing. Who would've thought? A while back he and Billy would have never even looked at each other on the court. Much less be planting soft, intentional kisses all over each other. The brilliant smile spreads on his face again when Billy comes back with a plate and two cups of coffee. 

"Made toast. I- ...I know you don't eat that much cos it makes you sick but I think your stomach can handle this." The boy mutters, blushing slightly as he sets the cups on the table. Steve's tummy grumbles in response and they both laugh at the sound. He sips at the hot coffee and his nose screws up at the bitterness.

"That's mine- sorry." Billy chuckles, switching the cups. Steve's coffee has almond milk and sugar because Billy knows Steve's an actual princess. The boy hums appreciatively at the sweetness and curls back up on the couch next to Billy. The blonde cuts the toast slice into small pieces and passes the plate to Steve who shakes his head. 

Billy goes red.

"You want me to feed you?" 

It's Steve's turn to blush as he nods a little, avoiding Billy's eyes pointedly. He's never had someone take care of him and pamper him like he was some kind of softie despite the fact that a lot of his friends thought he was actually spoiled. Growing up had been hard with parents who only cared about him whenever they were in front of their own friends or business partners. He was never spoiled or loved and the fact that he was an only child made it all worse. Because he didn't have someone to share in his loneliness. Now that Billy had taken up the responsibility of looking after him, he found himself becoming quickly addicted to the feeling. 

"Hey." Billy says softly, caressing his cheek before holding up a crisp, buttery piece of toast against his lips. He takes it between his teeth before chewing and swallowing. Soft town eyes glance up to gauge Billy's expression to see if the boy is weirded out by him but he only sees a bright smile lighting up the other boys face. His nerves don't get to him as much now. 

"You're not eating." He mumbles, leaning heavily against Billy's strong shoulders. The boy shakes his head.

"Already ate." 

"Oh." 

 

Billy goes to say something but right then, the phone rings, interrupting them. He gently slips out from under Steve's sloth hold, making the brunette pout and growl in the cutest protest ever. He chuckles and says he'll just be a minute; he's kinda missing the warm, barely-there weight on him as well. Steve rolls his eyes as he watches Billy's retreating back, the boy heading to the kitchen to answer the phone. He eats the toast slowly, ear straining to hear what Billy's mumbling into the receiver. Doesn't amount to much though, he can barely hear anything but the deep undertone of the boy's voice. He sips on his coffee instead and waits patiently. Not like he can do much anyway. 

When Billy comes back, Steve's smile drops as the other boy looks a bit lost, confused, sad and angry at the same time. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Steve asks as Billy flops down onto the couch next to him, almost dejectedly. Steve immediately curls up into Billy's side and wraps his arm around his chest, burying his face in that muscled shoulder. He strokes Billy's bicep gently and gazes at him. That jaw is ticking distractedly and Steve can feel his nerves coming to life. After all those days of Billy taking care of him, he'd been gentle and kind and soft. Now he looked like the Billy of old and it scared Steve to no end. He whimpers and can feel himself flinching as Billy turns to look at him. 

Those pretty blue eyes glint with regret and Billy shakes his head, pulling Steve closer. 

"I'm sorry. M'not mad I swear." He murmurs into Steve's hair. He slides his hands gently up and down Steve's back, soothing the trembling that's started up. 

"Then what's wrong?" Steve mumbles into his shoulder, nose pressing coldly against Billy's neck. Billy has no other way to say it so he just does.

"That was your mom." 

Steve freezes in his arms and it feels like he's hugging a petrified plank of wood. He rubs Steve's arms like he's trying to warm him back to life. 

"Hey, ...where'd you go?" He murmurs, lips sweet against dark, chestnut hair.

"Sorry... I- what'd she say?" Steve's questions sounds shaky, as if he doesn't really want or care to know.

"She says your father left..." Billy sighs and holds up a placating hand when Steve gasps at him, alarmed.

"No- no, not like that. He left to go on business... said you needed the space. She also said to tell you he was sorry." 

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

"Typical, apologize and then leave for three to four months. He's such an asshole." 

Billy just sits there, seemingly indifferent as Steve fumes quietly next to him. 

"Your mom also said that you have an appointment with a Dr Helbig or something..."

"Herald. Dr Herald." Steve corrects absently, his distracted gaze unblinking. He's scared... And a bit curious.

"Wait- how did she know to call here?" 

Billy shrugs. "I asked her as much. She said she just knew you'd be here." 

Steve clasps his fingers together and cracks all ten of his knuckles. He sits there, practically vibrating against Billy like he's made entirely out of nerves or something. Billy gives him his space to freak out. 

"You good?" He asks softly. 

Steve doesn't meet his eyes and instead keeps looking at the black tv screen. It wasn't on but yet he followed some invisible pattern on the thing as if it were his favourite show. 

"W- will you go with me? To the doctor's?" 

His voice sounded so small and wounded, Billy fought the urge to literally cry. He wraps a reassuring arm around Steve's shoulders and kisses his forehead.

"Of course princess." 

Steve practically melts at the pet name and offers Billy a brilliant smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr is the place that Mufasa told Simba not to go to. :/ xD


	10. I've Had Some Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An uneasy trip to the Doctor's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this has been a long time coming. I been busy DAMNNNNNN :'( enjoy

I've Had Some Issues 

 

"You're doing great." Billy praises as Steve carefully steps out of the Camaro, knees shaking slightly. Most of the weight is on his left leg- a side effect of his poor coordination- but he stands up tall anyway. He sways a bit and has to hold on to the car door for balance. Billy is a few feet away from him, not helping, just observing as Steve had ordered him to. The headstrong brunette wanted to test his own strength and he needed to do that without Billy's help. And Billy got that... he just didn't have to like it. It felt like torture watching Steve try to maintain his balance. His fears aside though, he felt extremely proud, watching Steve take a few steps on his own. 

"C'mon Bambi, you can do it." Billy mutters, mostly to himself but Steve hears him anyway and tosses a glowing smile his way. A few more steps and he's in Billy's arms, grinning with his eyes closed, the cold wind whipping all around them. Billy's whispering sweet little praises in his ear about how he's proud and Steve just blushes harder as they trudge into the private hospital that Judy gave Billy the address to. Billy's not shocked at how rich and advanced the place looks; the Harrington name 'is' money. 

Billy sits Steve down in the waiting room and goes to the receptionist at the front desk. 

"Hey. Name's Billy Hargrove." He says smoothly, his voice practically dripping with a slicked back ease. The blonde at the desk goes pink and she flashes him a cherry red smile. 

"Well hello there, Mr Hargrove. How may I help you?" 

"My friend, over there has an appointment with Dr Herald."

"Oh, what's his name?" 

"Harrington. St-" 

"Ah, Steve. Yes, he does. His mother usually comes with him, where is she?"

"Uh.... on her way." Billy says, his mask of confidence slipping slightly. 

"Hello Steven." 

He turned to see a middle aged man with greying hair step out of an office to greet Steve who was looking bored out of his mind in the waiting room. He winked at the receptionist before leaving to return to Steve's side, a protective hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Doctor Herald, hey." Steve greeted quietly, as Herald cast a curious glance Billy's way. 

"Uh, this is Billy. He's been taking real good care of me." The cheeky brunette says with a little smile, neck blushing a pretty pink. Billy meets Herald's eyes for a short minute before he looks down at his feet. He's not one for high praises, even if Steve means them, but he can't help the fluttering feeling in his stomach when Steve looks at him like that.

"Shall we?" Herald coughs, motioning at Steve alone.

"Um, I want him with me." The boy mutters meekly, not meeting either of their stares. 

Herald doesn't say anything and just gestures for them to enter his office before closing the door behind them. Sitting opposite the man with Steve reaching over and slipping his hand into Billy's, it makes Billy feel like this is some weird couple's therapy session, or something akin to it. The idea amuses him a little. And keeps the hot blush on his face. Jesus, why the hell did he feel like some little girl whenever he was with the damn pretty boy?

"Now, from my last visit, your physical condition had severely deteriorated." Herald begins. 

And just like that, Billy's whole warm and fuzzy vibe evaporates into a shriveled nothingness, and he remembers exactly who he is. And exactly why they're here in a fucking doctor's office talking about Steve and his long list of mental and physical problems because some psycho beat him up. He subtly extracts his hand from around Steve's small ones and clenches it into a hard fist in his lap. Steve shoots him a forlorn sort of confused puppy look and it's a battle to keep himself away from comforting him.

"Tell me Steve, how has your vision been lately? Any blurriness? Headaches? Migraines?" Herald continues.

"A little dizziness. And a few headaches, but the migraines have cleared up. I don't get them anymore. I still see a little blurry at times." Steve answers quietly, quite unaware of how much Billy wants to throw himself out the window at every word. 

"Any vomiting?" 

"Y-... yes..." 

Billy side glances him with heavily hooded eyes and clenches his fist in his jeans. The room is getting hotter by the minute and it's a task to breathe- Billy doesn't think he can do this. He almost scoffs outright at that sentiment; Steve's the one who's supposed to be scared right now. And Billy's supposed to be strong for him, maybe even holding his fucking hand. Not squirming in his chair like a fucking coward. 

"Okay, let's talk about your hand and foot coordination. I've noticed that you're having some problems walking." There Herald goes again, smacking Billy over the top of his head with the same old harsh reality. It's a deadbolt of a reminder of why he's not deserving of anything from Steve; not his affections, or his attentions, not his soul crushing doe-eyed gaze or even that heartbreaker smile of his. He zones out the steady, practiced conversation going on between Steve and Herald and just wallows in his misery. 

Instead, he imagines being back in California, cruising down the road in his Camaro, Steve in the passenger's side, tucked in comfortably but arms spread wide, taking in the flowery summer breeze that's blowing through his gorgeous hair. He pretends that Steve's got his Ray Bans on and a pretty white ripped crop top with those signature Harrington high waisted jeans. Classic beauty. Jesus, that would just be a dream. Steve Harrington _was_ a dream.

"Billy?" 

"Hm?" He's startled from his reverie by Herald and Steve blinking at him expectedly.

"I'm going to have Steve do an MRI scan for cerebral and spinal assessment. Can you hold on in the waiting room?" 

Billy tenses. _Hard_.

"Can- ...can I go with him?" He asks and he hates the way his voice breaks in concern. This time he really takes a hold of Steve's hand, the boy staring at him with huge brown eyes. He looks terrified. 

"I'm afraid not. Usually only family members are allowed. But even then, it's not recommended since the process is so meticulous."

Herald tacks on what sounds like a regulatory, "I assure you, he'll be fine" and it only makes Billy feel more nervous. Steve though, angel that he is, squeezes his hand comfortingly even though the anxiety is clear in his eyes.

"I'll be fine." 

 

...........

An hour or so later, Steve comes out of the room with Herald in tow, in a light blue hospital gown, looking pale and slightly nauseated. Billy rushes up to them and shoots Herald a pissed off glare. He holds Steve carefully and helps him sit down. The boy blinks slowly for a few minutes and sips distractedly on the ice water the receptionist provides. Billy just keeps holding him, petting his soft hair gently, whispering over and over in his ear that it was okay. And that he was right there- wasn't leaving. It's almost easy to forget that Herald is still in the room with them. 

"Don't worry Steven, the worst part of the examination is over. The results should come in by the end of next week. I'll make sure to have them sent over to your residence as soon as possible." 

Billy eyes the man as Steve nods shakily.

"Is he gonna be alright?" 

"I'm happy to say that his condition has been improving exponentially these past few days. That's always a good sign. As for his coordination, I think some physical therapy will be the best option for a speedy recovery. You'll be up and walking in no time. Oh, and it should take you a week at least but, the good news is, that you can start attending classes again." 

It's the best news he's heard all week.

 

............. 

After Steve's all changed back into his clothes and they're in Billy's car, the mood isn't tense but it's not particularly happy either. Steve has to go home and Billy knows that.... he just doesn't have to like it. So he keeps driving, with his face turned front, steady left hand on the wheel while the other one wraps around Steve's neck, thumb finger stroking the boy's cheek. Steve's been quiet ever since they left the hospital but it's not a worrying silence; just a wistful one. He snuffles softly into Billy's touch and holds on to the hand as if it's a lifeline. 

Billy has also kept his thoughts cankering inside his head, gingerly tight-lipped. He's not sure if he was ready to talk yet. He's afraid he'd just cry about hurting Steve all over again. The whole appointment with Herald has been an uncomfortable affair. Agonizingly so. It seemed now, that every time he was with Steve he'd just be reminded of what happened. And that was something that he _could not_ fix. A soft, warm, kitten kiss quickly brings him back to reality.

"Hey, what're you thinking about?" Steve murmurs in his ear. He holds out his hand for Steve to take and entwines their fingers, pressing kisses all over Steve's pale knuckles. 

"You." He grins softly.

Beside him, Steve chuckles brightly.

"Me? What about me?" He indulges, sitting up in his seat and pivoting his entire body to face Billy, legs tucked up under him. Billy scoffs, amused. He plays along anyway. 

"Your hair."

"Yeah?" 

"Mhm." 

"And what else?" 

"That pretty face." 

"It's not that pretty." That comes out a bit petulant. Billy grins like a fox.

"Oh, trust me sweetheart, it's very pretty." 

He earns a smack to the chest for that. But he's quick and grabs a hold of the guilty limb, biting Steve's little finger playfully. The boy squeaks but doesn't move his hand; he likes how Billy's teeth feels on his skin. Billy drops his hand to pull a corner, slowly coming up on Steve's house. Steve pouts when he sees the place, the car coming to a steady halt in the driveway.

"I know princess." Billy sighs as Steve burrows into his chest. He swears the boy is a teddybear sometimes.

"I don't want to stay here." Steve mutters into his neck. 

"It's your house, baby." Billy reminds him unnecessarily, fingers rubbing at the back of his neck. 

"I like your house. I like staying with you." 

Billy clutches Steve's face and plants a kiss on his lips, just the way Steve likes it. 

"I wish you could stay with me too princess. But, we can't. You need to be home with your mama. Your asshole father's gone for the while." He says that with a hard edge in his voice. 

"He _is_ an asshole." Is all Steve replies as they both notice Judy making her way down the walkway. They quickly pull away from each other's embrace guiltily. Steve turns to him with a scared and panicked look. 

"Will you stay with me tonight?" He whines quietly and Billy feels bad about declining. All he wants to do is stay with the boy and protect him. But he needs some space to gather his thoughts. Things were moving extremely fast with Steve and that was all well and fine; if only Billy could get the fact that he was responsible for all of Steve's current pains out of his head. 

"I can't, I'm sorry." He mutters, fiddling with the keys in the ignition. 

Steve nods in innocent understanding though, and Billy feels even worse. 

"Guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" 

"Sure sweetheart." He chuckles as Judy waves at him. He waves back casually as Steve winks at him before opening the door.

_Such a sweet boy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blep @hainethehero


	11. To Change Who I Used To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School always brings out the worst in people. It's not the bubble of safety Billy and Steve' have been living in all week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: minor mention of suicide 
> 
> Do not read if you're easily triggered. 
> 
> LISTEN TO DAVID COOK'S LIGHT ON WHILST READING THIS chapter

To Change Who I Used To Be 

 

A week and two days later, Steve got the call. Principal Cooper had been informed by Herald that he'd been medically cleared, his walking had improved thanks to seven days worth of intense physical therapy and his coordination had gotten much better. He still got random headaches and dizziness but that would soon be gone like Herald had promised. Billy hadn't visited him for two days and that had been hard. Without the blue eyed boy, sleep evaded him and his nerves got the best of him. His mother did everything she could to make him comfortable during those dark times and he really appreciated it. But things were always really better when Billy was there, by his side, playing with his hair, or just letting him snooze on his firm, muscled chest. Those times, sleep came easy and he didn't have nightmares because Billy was a dream. It was perfect. 

"Sweetie, are you ready? Billy's here." Judy calls from down the hall and Steve's heart jumps a little. He adds the finishing touches on his hair with the Farah Fawcett spray and then straightens his dark red long sleeved shirt. It's his favorite; all baby soft and it smelled like vanilla. It's also Billy's favorite shirt of Steve's but Steve has somehow convinced himself that he's not wearing it to impress the other boy.

"I'm coming Mom!" He yells, throwing a few extra pens and pencils in his bag before zipping it up and rushing down the stairs. Since his therapy, everything to do with bipedalism and being on his feet felt like a new experience. And he wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. He still nursed a second-hand limp from time to time but, that would go away. 

"Woah! Steve! Be careful sweetie!" Judy damn near screeches as he chambers down the last four steps. She has a hand clutched over her chest as if she'd almost had a heart attack and Steve grins at her, his smile brighter than it had been for a long time. 

"Bye Mom!" 

"I'll see you later dear. And please tell Billy to drive slowly. I know he's got a heart of gold but by God that boy likes to speed." She laments with a worried little smile. Steve feels his face redden at that and he rolls his eyes.

"I trust him." 

"So do I. But still, tell him to be careful." 

After three more rounds of going back and forth in Billy's driving, Steve finally concedes and says he'll tell Billy to drive safely. Personally, he can't wait to see the annoyed expression on Billy's face when he tells him what Judy said. His skin erupts with a sleepy kind of warmth as he slides into the passenger side, Billy eyeing him down intently. 

"Mom says to drive carefully. No speeding and that she loves you." He blurts out cutely and Billy scoffs, a wide smile on his face. It's weird for him cos he usually doesn't smile like this on Monday mornings. 

"I know your mother loves me, but goddamn, can't she trust me? Of course I'm not gonna speed." He chuckles, mostly to himself but Steve gets his giggles out of it too.

"Billy Hargrove? Driving within the speed limit? My circuits are overloading. I can't compute such illogical variables. Hargrove and speed limit just don't go well together. " 

"Yeah they do. Especially when I've got precious cargo in the passenger seat." Billy teases shaking his head and Steve clamps his mouth shut because dammit! He's been beat. Billy's won this round. Billy laughs softly at his pouty silence and revs his engine a little. 

"You're real cheeky y'know that?" He mumbles through perfect teeth that are biting softly on his own knuckles. Steve blinks innocently at him and shrugs as if he's got no damn clue what Billy's talking about. 

"How?" He squeaks. 

"You know that's my favorite shirt cos it's the most adorable thing you own. How am I gonna keep to myself in the hallways? Or in class?" Billy grumbles, no real heat in his voice. Steve giggles excitedly at that and looks down to play with the hem of his- sorry, _Billy's_ favorite shirt. He makes sure to put a lot of effort into making it look like he's seriously considering the thing. 

"Trust me, you won't. I'm gonna be in Cooper's office all day talking to teachers about all the shit that I've... missed. "

Billy hears the lower, melancholic register of Steve's voice as he says that and he reaches out his hand for Steve to take it. He does so with a frightened vigour. 

"You're really scared huh?" 

Beside him, Steve nods. His fingers tighten around Billy's hand and they don't stop shaking. Steve's nerves are like fire ants, crawling all over his body and shocking him over and over again until he's nothing but hurt. Until he feels nothing but pain. Billy wants to be his sponge; to soak up all that fear and sadness and just leave him feeling happy and satisfied with himself. Steve's too beautiful to be worrying so much. 

"I just hate not knowing what to expect." The brunette says and Billy's ear drinks in his words like it's poetry. Hell, anything Steve says is beautiful and poetic. And awfully tragic.

"You won't be alone, I promise." Billy murmurs, bringing Steve's hand up to press a kiss on his knuckles. 

They pull into the parking lot and it's time to face the music. There are dozens of students milling about idly next to their cars, the guys with girls in their arms and the gals propped up against the cars like models. It doesn't take Steve long to find the green Ford LTD of Jonathan Byers and he immediately grabs on to Billy's wrist. Nancy is cuddled up next to him and they both look so perfect together. Steve almost forgot that he was with her for a hot minute. He doesn't feel anything for her anymore, but he also doesn't feel any type of way about her. He knows that she still cares about him, but after ignoring all of her requests to come visit him while he'd been bed-ridden, he wasn't sure if she felt hospitable towards him.

Billy rubs at his neck soothingly and he melts into the touch, practically purring under the attention. He wants to turn around and kiss the life out of the other boy but he knows better. Being alone and isolated with Billy was so much easier. School just added layer upon layer of complexities that just made their whole relationship seem insignificant. He didn't dare tell Billy that though. It was just a thought. 

"You're gonna be fine." Billy murmurs before getting out of the car, waiting for Steve to do the same. After what seems like an entire hour, Steve crawls out like a crab in a shell and flings his narrow glances everywhere. He's legitimately scared now and all he wants to do is crawl back in the Camaro and hideaway in the confines of Billy's warm body. 

"Hey," Billy calls to him over the roof of the car and he turns his spooked, deer-in-the-headlights stare at the blonde. 

"You're gonna be fine." 

It takes a few minutes for Steve to calm down. He can _feel_ the eyes on him though. Can see the stares and the not so subtle pointing. 

_Look, there's the invalid._

_There's The boy with the mental disorder._

_Why's he with Billy Hargrove?_

Steve gets a feeling in his stomach akin to the sensations that had rocked through him the first time he saw the Demogorgon. 

It's not even close to pleasant. 

...............

The parking lot wasn't even close to what the classroom experience held in store for him. Steve could feel his blood and his skin crawl everytime there were eyes on him. It made him lose focus and he'd have to try to catch the gist of what the teacher was saying and translate it into logical sentences in his notebook. Then he'd turn to look at Billy and suddenly everything was right again. He could focus better, think clearer and that meant a lot. Not even the nagging sensation of Nancy staring openly at the back of his head could faze him. 

_At least, for the while._

The minute Billy had forcefully dragged himself to that one Literature class he didn't share with Steve, Nancy was on him like an over-concerned mother. 

"Oh my God, Steve. We were so worried about you. Are you okay? How do you feel?" She babbles in utter relief, her hug warm and incredibly genuine. It makes him feel bad for avoiding her earlier.

"Hey Nance. I'm fine, it's all good." He informs her as a sort of disclaimer for all the angst he knew she was going to bring up. Nancy was melodramatic like that.

"I wanted to visit you so many times... Oh God and Dustin and Mike and the others were so worried." 

"I know. I know you guys were and I'm really sorry if I... if I hurt your feelings but, ...I didn't really want to see anyone." He mutters, grateful for her as she shoos off other curious jerks from him. They weren't even friends with him; had immediately jumped off of his dick the minute Billy showed up. 

"It's cool. We all get it. Dustin though... He's pretty messed up about everything." She sighs, pretty aqua blue eyes twinkling at him in that adventurous way they always did when she was feeling playful. It's nothing but a comforting and friendly gesture for him now and he's truly grateful for it. 

"Oh no. I'm gonna have to buy him a week's worth of pizza to make up for everything." He jokes easily, thinking wistfully of the curly haired brat. Nancy chuckles along with him but her eyes sparkle with another poorly unveiled question. 

"So... Billy's your caretaker." 

_Way to break the ice, Nance._

Wait.

_How the hell did she know that?_

"You- um... you know about that?" He chokes out not so smoothly. 

"Yeah. Caught him talking to Principal Cooper about you." She reveals a bit sheepishly. 

He sighs and runs idle fingers through his hair. A slight blush burns his pale cheek and he clears his throat to try and hide it. He fails miserably, judging by the knowing glimmer in Nancy's eyes. His deny and deflect firewall comes up and he shakes his head absently.

"I dunno Nance... it surprised me too. It's not like I had a choice anyway." He mutters, heart clenching at how badly he was betraying Billy right now. He was making it sound as if Billy didn't mean jack to him after everything they'd gone through. Nancy nods slowly but still sports that confused look on her face. 

"I just think that it's odd. I'm not gonna stand here and say that he's not good for you... I mean, I don't know how it's been with him taking care of you. But, I just think that if he's got that much of an anger problem, something like this is gonna happen again. And you need to be careful." She says quietly and it boils Steve's blood before cooling his skin at the same time. He's feeling feverish now. 

What if Nancy was right? 

No-! 

No, he couldn't think like that. 

Billy was getting better. And so was he. They were both healing each other. 

"And he still hasn't apologized for roughing up the kids. Poor Lucas is still afraid to be in the same compound as him. And Max... well, Max has to deal with his dark side every other day. Remember the purple marks on her wrist?" 

_Fuck._

Nancy was really smart. Strategic in how she built him up and then broke down the image of Billy he'd created in his own head. She gently forced him to recall all the other bad things Billy had done to other people who Steve loved and suddenly there's a lump in his throat. His skin feels cold and clammy and he's not sure if he wants to see Billy after class. How could he forget about Lucas and Max? And Dustin? And everyone else who was afraid of Billy Hargrove? 

"He- ... I dunno Nance, he's really been getting better." He tries, the words tasting like sandpaper on his tongue. His throat burns with the effort. Nancy nods at him sagely with an understanding that makes him think she knows everything and then some.

"You two got close, didn't you?" 

It's not accusing or even remotely nasty. Just raw and honest. 

And Steve can't help but nod helplessly. His brain spasms with a series of flashbacks that he'd rather not see. 

_Told you to plant your feet._

_Looks like you've got some fire in you after all!_

_You're dead!_

_No. You are!_

_Nobody tells me what to do._

His eyes mist over and he feels utterly betrayed. He remembers that night in Billy's car when he'd run away from home after his Dad had bitch slapped him. Remembers telling Billy that he wasn't a monster. 

_He'd meant it at the time._

He remembers telling Billy that he'd just been through a lot. And the worst of them all; he remembers Billy crying in his arms, helpless to defend his behaviour and extremely regretful. Billy was sorry. He meant it. Steve knew that. 

So... why the hell was he second guessing everything now? 

 

................

Billy couldn't wait to get back on the court with Steve. He promised himself, that this time, he'd do it right. He'd play fair, by the rules and not shove the boy around like old, asshole Billy would have done. No. He would be patient and kind and he'd let Steve win even though everyone knew that Billy could beat Steve in a heartbeat. He wanted to see Steve happy all the time. Never wanted the boy to suffer at his hands again. That was one of the worst things he'd ever experienced.

He quickly changes into his green basketball shorts and goes out on the field at the sound of Coach Bell's whistle. The team's already doing drills and warm ups, the coach barking out orders for them to follow. Billy's eyes scan the space for Steve but doesn't see the boy. He's probably late. He falls in line easily, quickly picking up the pace with laps around the court. It feels good to relieve some of the built up tension he'd been feeling all weekend. This is where his aggressions belonged. On the court, the ball, the ring. This was his therapy. 

"Hey Hargrove, what's up with you and Pinocchio?" One asshole named Tyler has the fucking _nerve_ to ask. The other guys laugh at the joke. Billy doesn't even crack a smile. He'd promised Steve he was going to be better.

"Pinocchio?" Tommy, ever the idiot parrots, as if asking for reference as to the relevance of the joke.

"He got fucked up good. Now he's walking like a puppet on strings. Have you seen him walking down the hallways?" Gerard snickers

"Limping like some wounded puppy. I saw all the bitches flocking to his seat in Lit. Miranda was _oh so worried."_ Tyler pushes but Billy can hear the sense of rejection in his voice. 

"Jealous Tyler? Hm? That some "puppet on strings" got Miranda's attention before you did?" He snaps and they all go silent. 

"Hey, chill man. Why the hell are you snapping at us? You on Harrington's side now?" Tommy pushes and Billy's fist has a hard time staying unclenched. 

"I was never on anyone's side dipshit. That's you and the rest of these pussies. Don't forget about how you jumped on my dick in record time the second Harrington lost his crown." He growls and he takes some satisfaction in the way some of the guys blanch visibly. 

"Yeah, one keg stand and your panties were all wet. Don't fucking mess with me. I promise you, things change when I'm your enemy." 

Billy knows he's gone full Vader on the guys, zero to a hundred, but he can't bring himself to care. 

"And as for Harrington, you leave him alone too. Messing with him is messing with me. Got it?" 

Talking shit about Steve was a big fucking no-no in his book now and he'd be damned if he let someone like Tommy bully Steve around just as he'd gotten better. A bit hypocritical if Billy was being honest with himself and his jaw ticks at his own BS. He can practically hear the, _but you're the same guy who beat Steve within an inch of his life and bullied him everyday on the court, you self-righteous bastard!_

Right then, in the middle of their bickering, the doors of the gym open with a sort of accidental bang and they all turn to see Steve limping up to the Coach who greets him warmly. Steve's got a slip of paper in his hands.

"Alright give me fifty more laps girls!" Bell hollers at them before he and Steve walk back to the locker room to talk. There's not a sound coming from Tommy or Tyler or any of the others. They all mutter quietly to each other and start running the fifty. 

Billy doesn't give a damn about doing drills at the moment. He sneaks up to the locker room and hides behind the wall that closes off the entrance to the lockers. Coach Bell and Steve are within perfect earshot.

"I'm glad to see that you're getting better Steve." Bell remarks, the rustling of papers giving Billy the impression that Bell is reading through Steve's medical slip. It's a curse that; having to parade around your deficiencies to every goddamn teacher in the school. 

"I am- I am better, Coach." Steve replies a bit too enthusiastically. Billy winces at that. It just sounds like he's trying to convince himself. 

"I have to be honest with you Steven."

There's an extremely uncomfortable pause after that and Billy has to fight the urge to yell at them to fucking say something! 

"Principal Cooper informed me of your condition before you arrived today. And the report has been assessed by the health and sport department at the school's district board." Bell continues, his usually grave tone easygoing and... kind.

"Wh-... okay. What'd they say?" Steve mutters quickly, his voice dropping with an expectant disappointment. 

Bell sighs. "The consensus is that your injuries have proven too dangerous to allow you to continue playing son." 

_No!_

The static pause after Bell reveals the worst to Steve makes Billy physically sick. He starts to sweat, standing there against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He runs a hand over his face and shudders. Steve still hasn't said a word. There are some more rustling paper sounds and Bell clearing his throat. 

"Steve?" 

"No, that's not- ...Coach I can still play, I swear!" Steve protests but Bell grunts in regret.

"I am sorry Steve. You are one of the best players this team's ever had and I am grateful for all the championships you've led us t-"

"No. No, you ca- No! I'm still good! I can still play! I got cleared!" Steve yells and Billy can hear the strain in his voice. He knows that's when Steve's about to cry. His heart hammers in his chest as Steve and Bell continue to go back and forth.

"Steve your injuries critically affected your spinal cord and cerebral functions."

_Billy wants to kill himself._

"One fall on the court and you can be paralyzed or d- ...look son, you have less than a year before graduation. I don't want anything bad to happen to you and neither does the board. I know you don't see it now, but, take this as a blessing in disguise." 

The locker room goes deathly silent after that and Billy waits for like five minutes until he hears the sound of angry, stomping footsteps. It's too late to run back to the court so he stays stuck there, flinching as Steve pauses for a flash second, meeting his eyes with wet, dark pools of fury and abject resentment. He thinks that Steve is about to say something but then the boy just brushes past him, their shoulders knocking hard as he storms out of the gym. 

 

....................

Exactly half an hour later, Billy rushes out of the gym after Bell gave him an earful, looking around frantically for Steve. Luckily, he finds Steve sitting on the asphalt of the parking lot, back resting against the front wheel of the Camaro. His face is red and his eyes are still wet. He's sniffling and his jaw is set tight as if he's about ready to give Billy an earful as well. His elbows rest on his knees and his hands are clasped together tightly, veins over his knuckles raised and _angry._

Billy approaches him slowly. 

For a minute, they don't say anything; it's all hard stares at the ground and heavy breathing. Billy knows aggression all too well so he stays quiet. Knows exactly when to time eruptions. If he opens his mouth, things'll fall apart for sure. So he stands there, hands hanging loosely at his sides, head down and his mouth clamped tight. It's the way he is with Neil. 

"It's so hard to forget the person you were before." Steve finally mutters through gritted teeth and Billy can feel it slice through his chest. 

Still doesn't say a goddamn word.

Steve wipes at his nose furiously.

"I gave that fucking team everything I had. One little injury and now I'm shelved for life." He grounds out again and his voice is dangerously close to cynical. 

Billy's still _fucking_ silent. 

"Say something!" Steve finally screams at him, struggling to his feet to face Billy, who backs up quickly. 

"It's my fault!" The blonde finally snaps but there is absolutely no aggression channeling towards Steve. It's all at himself. 

"I know! It's all my fault okay!" 

Steve scoffs and takes another step closer to him. Again, he backs away. 

"And? So what if it's your fault Billy? You're not the one who just got kicked off the fucking team!" Steve snarls and it's a different side to him that Billy hasn't come across yet. 

"I'm sorry!" Billy yells back but it comes out as a pathetic cry. 

"Bullshit!" Steve snaps and a flicker of hurt crosses Billy's face. 

"You're right! I am bullshit. I know that- Steve if there was one thing I could do over-" 

"Billy don't!" Steve growls and Billy immediately closes his mouth. 

"I haven't forgotten what you did! Hell, it's all I ever fucking think ab-" Steve quickly catches himself from saying the absolute damnest thing but it's too late. 

Billy's blue eyes mist and the tears start to flow freely. Steve feels terrible and goes to apologize but Billy stops him, sitting down in the asphalt with his head in his hands. Wordlessly, Steve sits next to him but keeps a few inches between them. He hears the extremely quiet sniffles from Billy and wipes frustratedly at his own tears. 

"You should get back to practice." Steve mutters, blurry eyes on the few people milling about near the gym doors in the distance. 

"I can walk home." 

But Billy shakes his head. 

He takes a deep breath, swiping at his nose as he speaks.

"I know it doesn't mean much- Steve, believe me, I fucking _know_ it doesn't mean shit... but, ...I quit the team." 

Steve snaps up to stare at Billy with a hard frown.

"What?"

"Figured if you couldn't have it then neither should I." Billy scoffs wetly, fingers digging hard into the soft underside of his left wrist. 

"Billy, no. You cant-" Steve starts but Billy shrugs him off.

"I deserve it. And worse. I know that. I know you resent me and I wish I could change the past... but I can't... _I don't know how_.." He sobs into his palms. 

Steve's tears come back in full fucking swing and he reaches over and pulls Billy into his arms. He holds him tight and strokes his fingers through the blonde curls. 

"No. Please don't say that. Please Billy. I... I know I'm still working through this- but I don't resent you Billy. _Please._ " He whispers to the blonde, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

Billy shakes his head and keeps repeating "sorry" to Steve who keeps shushing him because they both fucked up. Trust Hawkins High to turn everything that was beautiful into a big fucking mess. Things were so much easier when they were in Billy's bed, holding each other. 

"Please don't quit because of me." Steve murmurs when Billy calms down and turns to finally face him. They both boast a tragic reflection of the other's pain. It's almost poetic. 

"Who's gonna become the next star on the team huh? Tommy?" His attempt at a joke is perfectly timed and Billy snorts, wiping at his eyes with a small smile on his face. 

Steve chuckles wetly along with him and suddenly things aren't so heavy as before. 

"Nah, I'm not going back. Won't be seeing you in those tiny short, shorts anyway." 

It's Steve's turn to snort and he tries to muffle his quiet laughter in Billy's shoulder. 

"Dork." 

"Princess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya liked.


	12. Questions of Science and Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more he changes, the worse things get. Life has a funny way of changing constants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had time on my hands and decided to write up somn

Questions of Science and Progress 

 

Things got better between Steve and Billy after that big fight in the school parking lot. Billy still came over to Steve's house dutifully; always on time to spend the quiet days doing homework or just lazing around. He didn't have to take care of Steve like he was his medical patient anymore. But he still brought food for the boy, and fed him and made sure he took his medicine that Herald had prescribed. Sometimes he felt like Steve's mother but, he wasn't complaining. Doing those things for Steve gave him purpose. And he actually felt like he was doing something good for a change. 

At school, they sat in the cafeteria for lunch together, they sat next to each other in class, and when they had a free period, it was steamy, make out session in the old janitor's closet in the furthest wing of the science lab. Those small pockets of heavy breaths, heated skin, bruised lips and supersonic endorphins, were the best part of their day. And almost always left them feeling restless and extremely frustrated. Well, mostly Billy. Because Steve was such a naughty tease. But, he could deal. 

"You wanna hang out later? At the quarry?" Billy grins, wiggling his brows at Steve as he bit into his sandwich. 

Steve does his best to keep a straight face whilst rolling his eyes at the blonde.

"I wish. Gotta pick up the kids from school and then Nancy and Jonathan are coming over to study." 

Billy shakes his head, sighing dramatically.

"I miss you in my car." He pouts, but hides his expression behind his hands to save face in front of the other kids in the cafeteria. Steve chuckles softly at him.

"I miss being in your car." 

Billy perks up. "So meet me tonight at the quarry and we can sleep in there if you want." 

He knows his argument is invalid, no matter how incredibly cosy it sounds. When it comes to Steve and his _friends,_ Billy played second fiddle. Apparently they all shared in some great bond that included freak Byers' mother, the Chief of Police, Jim Hopper and a bunch of little kids. Steve insisted that they'd all gotten close when Will- Byers' brother- had gone missing. Billy didn't pry too much; he could see how close Steve was with them so he thought it best not to get into that. 

"But, you won't. You've got mommy duties with those kids and then a top secret, hushedy-hush meeting with your ex and her new man." 

Billy says all of this with an exaggerated sigh and Steve has no other choice but to choke on his water because, Jesus- the guy's a great actor. 

"You're such an ass." He coughs, eyes brimming with happy tears. He blinks the wetness away and at the same time, catches Nancy's eyes from across the cafeteria. She and Jonathan were at least four tables away from them but Steve could still make out a warning, disclaiming fire in her ghostly blue eyes. He sighs and breaks the stare, glancing at Billy to make sure he doesn't notice all the weird looks. Hargrove is busy stabbing at a piece of paper on the table, his sandwich already polished off. 

"So, my mom wants to have like this little dinner slash party to celebrate my _recovery."_ He reveals, smirking at the look on Billy's face. 

"I should've known she would do something like that. Always looking for a reason to celebrate." Billy scoffs, shaking his head.

"Hey, I'm starting to think you know my mom more than I do." 

"You're not wrong." 

The annoying sound of the bell breaks them out of their banter and Billy grumbles to himself. Steve shoots him a knowing stare.

"C'mon big boy. It's time to go to class." 

"Can't we just skip and go make out or something?" Billy groans while slinging his bag over his shoulder. He accidentally locks eyes with Nancy who's been staring at them ever since they stepped in the goddamn cafeteria together. Her jaw ticks as she glares him down and he quickly avert his eyes back to Steve. 

"No, you have Art now. It's your favorite class." Steve teases as they exit the cafe, Nancy following a little distance behind. 

"I only took up Art because it was either that or French. And fuck if I know anything other than menage-a-trois." 

Steve screws up his nose at Billy's griping and pats him on the shoulder. 

"You should've taken the French class with me Billy." 

"Nah, I'm good. I'll see you tomorrow then?" 

Billy doesn't wait for an answer and instead just books it, because he sees Nancy already walking up to them. 

 

................

The Art Department at Hawkins was far better than the rest of the school. At least, that was Billy's opinion. 

The place was just a huge expanse of pristine white walls and a shiny, futuristic ceiling that dazzled with bright white lights. The windows were all frosted and there were various art pieces displayed on the walls and on fancy, darkwood and stone pillars. His eyes took in all the coloured and smoked glass pieces, the clay designs and the textiles. They all looked stellar from afar but when he got closer, he could trace the patterns of the diligent hands and deft fingers that had made the pieces. And somehow, those marks made the art way more beautiful. Billy could appreciate the hard work behind the pretty surface. 

Of course... that was just the display room. 

The actual fucking work room was a mess of non-aligned tables with surfaces ruined by various coloured paints, oil, charcoal and other questionable substances. The ground was even worse; just strewn with crumpled paper, opened sketchpads, sketchbooks and brushes. The walls in the work room weren't white either, but a pale green. There weren't any chairs in the room save for one where the teacher sat but the thing was rarely used and collecting dust. A girl had told him on his first day that everyone either chose to stand or sit on the floor. How the artists got their work done wasn't standard. Everyone had their own methods. Billy guessed everyone here took their shit seriously. 

Now, he stands in front of a 20x24 canvas... staring it down like he was going to fight it. The entire class had been given their first assignment; something called _Expressive Abstract Art._ Billy wasn't fool enough to think that he was capable of such a feat- he wasn't an artist. He's taken a few art classes over the years but he's never done enough to be at this level. But, Mrs Chaser was an asshole like that. She was a nice woman; Billy just didn't know why he had to do all this crap. Okay- he knew why, but... 

"Still haven't touched your canvas I see." 

Billy almost jumps out of his skin as he rounds on the red haired woman standing behind him. She's got her hair in a neat bun and she's already got black graphite marks on her fucking face. He glares at her. From day one she's been on his ass to express himself "on the paper". She'd peppered him with questions like why did he quit basketball and what made him choose Art and how many white t-shirts he owned. The woman was weird. But she was tolerable. In fact, Billy actually thought she was cool. 

But she really needed to quit telling him to "pour himself into the fucking canvas."

"I'm thinking." He grumbles, turning back to glare at the blank space. She chuckles beside him.

"Thinking's not something artists really do."

"Yeah I can see that." He mutters and she chuckles some more.

"Artists often don't think Mr Hargrove, but we _feel."_

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at her, hands idly playing with the brushes in the pan next to him. They're all clean and untouched by any kind of medium. It's clearly not the mark of a respectable artist. 

"The whole point of expressive abstract is to stop thinking and just feel. And whatever you feel, is what comes out on the canvas. There's a lot more psychology to art than science. When one starts thinking, ideas turn into solid constructs of the mind and so, we separate order from chaos. But when one feels..." 

She takes his left hand, the one holding the brush and dips it into the smokestack grey that's on his palette. 

"Solid thoughts dissolve into abstract constructs of the mind and we are left with..." She takes his hand and makes a practiced, vertical stroke on the canvas. 

"That." 

They both stare curiously at the grey-blue stain on the expanse of the canvas. It's nothing but a smear on the surface that starts off thick and ends in a wispy tail until the point where she'd removed the brush. There's nothing pretty about it, or artistic or even remotely sensible. But it's something. 

Billy frowns at her.

"You just messed up my canvas." He mutters, but his voice is monotone.

She grins up at him. 

"There is no such thing as _mess_ when it comes to abstract art Mr Hargrove." 

"How the hell am I supposed to know what to paint? Or what colours to use? What if I don't have feelings?" He gripes petulantly as she starts to walk away. 

"Trust me Billy. You have feelings. You're just momentarily in the grey area." 

The grey smear on the canvas jeers back at him as if to prove her point and for the rest of the evening, he's haunted by her quiet chuckle. 

 

.......................

"Hey guys." 

Steve expects a raucous when he pulls up at Hawkins Middle school around three. 

What he gets instead is a bunch of sullen looking kids with melancholic faces and carefully zipped lips. They pile into his car like depressed sloths and Dustin seems a bit reluctant to get in the passenger's side. His hat his low on his head, the visor covering his eyes a bit so Steve does the douchebag thing and pulls it off. 

"Gimme my hat back!" The boy grumbles as Steve holds it out of reach. Then Lucas grabs it from him and hands it back to Dustin. 

"What's the matter with you guys?" Steve questions his grin fading as they give him the silent treatment. Well, Dustin at least. Mike has never been one to back down from an argument. 

"Billy? You're friends with Billy? Really Steve?" 

_Dammit._

He should've know this was coming. 

He glances over at Lucas and flinches when the boy stares back at him resolutely. 

"Lucas I'm sorry." 

The boy shrugs and blinks back at him.

"How did you guys become friends?" 

Steve sighs deeply... thinking that maybe this wasn't the best place to talk about him and Billy. But he doesn't think he could handle the silence in the car so he starts talking anyway. 

"The principal sent over a volunteer to help my mom take- ...take care of me when I was... um-" He falters because dammit it's getting harder and harder to admit what Billy did. Dustin finally speaks and helps him finish the sentence though.

"When you were bed-ridden and couldn't see straight or walk or stay conscious for more than ten minutes because someone... who was it?- oh right, Billy. When _Billy_ beat the crap out of you." 

The awkward silence in the car just worsens and Steve has to look away because he can't stand the betrayed expressions on their faces. When he turns back, they're still staring him down and he runs a nervous hand through his hair. 

"Look- guys, I didn't know that he'd be the volunteer. He just came up to my room and... and- I kicked him out the first time I swear. But-" 

"But what Steve?" Mike pipes up. 

"He attacked Lucas! Do you remember that?" Dustin yells, his lisp prominent like it always is when he's arguing. 

"I know! Jesus, will you just let me explain?"

"Guys, let him talk." Will finally speaks up from the middle and everyone shuts up. Will doesn't like fights or confrontation- hell, none of them do but things can easily get out of hand when Mike, Dustin and Lucas are on a roll. Surprisingly though, Lucas still hasn't berated Steve or yelled at him. He's waiting for the boy to snap but Lucas just looks tired and sad. 

"Look, I know what he did. Lucas, there is _no way_ I would ever defend what he did to you. He was wrong."

Lucas sighs and nods at him.

"I'm not mad at you Steve. Hell, you beat him up for me. You can be friends with whoever you want- just... why him? I mean... you're nothing like him. I'm just confused that you guys are so close now."

"We're not that close I swear."

"You guys sit together in the cafeteria for lunch." Mike grimaces, exaggerating a shudder to show his abject disgust. 

"How do you know that?" Steve splutters defensively. 

"Nancy." The boy answer a bit sheepishly. 

_Of course it would be._

"Okay so we eat together. He apologized to me and Lucas I promise you, he regrets everything that happened. He just needs time to apologize to you." 

"Are you defending him?" Dustin demands incredulously. 

"What- no! Dustin, I'm not defending him-"

"That's what it sounds like Steve. So you two got close. How?" Dustin pushes and Steve can feel himself getting slightly irritated. He loved these kids with his whole heart but by God were they pushy!

"He was the only one there to help, what did you expect me to do?" He snaps and Dustin shakes his head.

"I called your house- probably a hundred times! But you didn't want to see any of us! You pushed me away! You pushed us away!" The boy cries at him and Steve immediately feels like the worst person in the world. He deflates in his seat and runs nervous fingers through his hair. What's worse than sitting in a car full of emotional teens? 

Nothing, that's what. 

He should've known that they'd be hurt. Shutting them and Nancy and even Joyce, who'd called a couple of times, was a hard decision to make but Steve had done that to protect himself. He could've easily made one call and they'd all be there on his room trying their best to cheer him up and keep him sane. Hell, if they were there, his mother wouldn't have had to call his stupid father and that whole ugly incident probably would've never happened. Hopper had said they were a family now... that simple piece of government paper officiated it. 

But oaths of absolute silence aside, Steve knew he had a family in everyone who'd survived the whole Upside Down mess. It was them and him against the world. 

And against Billy. 

"I'm sorry." He concedes, his voice quiet and careful. 

"I didn't want you guys seeing me... I didn't want anyone seeing me like that." 

His admittance acts like a sharp needle that just pops the growing tension in the car and now, everyone exhales and the mood becomes somber. Mike stops glaring at him and purses his lips. 

"Doesn't matter if you're ugly or not, we'd still love you just the same." 

They all laugh at that and the mood lightens. 

"Yeah, even without the fluffy hair." Dustin scoffs, ruffling Steve's hair. 

"Hey- watch it, dude." Steve grouses, trying to dodge the hand with a huge grin on his face. He's grateful that the "Billy talk" has been momentarily shelved. 

"Can we go home now? Mom is probably freaking out." Will interrupts sheepishly. 

There's a unified, "Yeah." 

They're all in agreement there; Ms Byers is scarier than a pack of Demodogs when it comes to her son. 

 

.....................

Life worked in absolutely fucking funny ways and the irony was not lost on Billy. During the past few weeks he'd been with Steve, things had been great. Not just great. 

Better.

Billy had been getting better. He wasn't so easily pissed off anymore. He smiled a lot more. He didn't care about being the coolest guy at school anymore and he'd gladly gotten rid off toxic guys around him like Tommy and the rest. Of course, he still had a lot more room for improvement, starting with preparing himself to apologize to Sinclair. He knew it was wrong, going after the kid. It was an act of aggression built on a vile intent that's been ingrained in him by Neil. And he'd acted on pure instinct alone. That was wrong. 

But apologizing was only one of the many things he had to do. And it was a long process. Going up to Lucas and just apologizing wasn't good enough. Plus it would be weird as fuck. He's never spoken to the kid before; had only glared at him with sinister eyes and shoved him up against a cupboard. Every time he thought back to that night it felt like his head was going to explode. Lucas, Steve, Max....

He definitely owed her an apology. He's tried a number of times in the past week but she'd made it crystal clear that she didn't want his apology or his friendship. So he'd kept to himself, both of them in their rooms, actively ignoring each other like some kind of cold war in the Hargrove house. If Susan noticed, she didn't say anything. But Neil... 

"Open the door!" 

The loud banging startles Billy out of the light sleep he'd fallen into, an open history book under him with its pages soaked in drool. He grimaces and shoves it off his bed before scrambling to open his door. He hastily yanks it open to see a red faced Neil glaring daggers at him from the other side, Susan behind him looking worried. 

"Where's Max?" 

His heart drops into his stomach and he can feel the air get hot and stuffy around him.

_Not this again._

"I asked you a question boy. Answer me!" Neil snarls and Billy quickly takes a step back. 

"I... I don't know." He answers quietly, eyes on the ground because staring Neil in the eye was suicide. 

"Susan picked her up from school and brought her home. She just stepped out for a few minutes and now Max is gone. Where were you?" Neil barks making Billy flinch hard.

He's boiling on the inside though because _what the fuck Max?!_ He didn't even remember Susan asking him to watch Max- did Susan even leave for a few minutes? Either he was drunk or some fucking sorcery was going on, because he didn't know where the fuck she was! He just remembers getting home, taking a goddamn shower and opening his book to study. 

"Where were you?!" Neil barks again, a little louder this time and Billy swallows nervously. 

"In my room." 

"Yeah, obviously because she's gone- again might I add! You-" 

"It's not my fault!" 

Billy doesn't know what fucking demon just possessed him to make him yell back at Neil but he immediately regrets it. Neil advances on him and he backs up until he's against the mirror on the wall. Neil's fists clench in his t-shirt. 

"What did you say?" The man scathes, his tone deathly serious and Billy knows he fucked up bad. 

"N..nothing, I'm sorry.." He hastily chokes out, fighting his fight or flight instincts to remain static in his father's rough grasp. 

"It's not your fault?! Then who's is it? Mine? Susan's?" Neil growls and it takes a monent for Billy to register the punch hitting him across the face. He grunts at the impact, feeling his tongue cut on his teeth. 

"I'm sorry-" He mutters again, hoping that it would satisfy the livid man but just like everyone else, his apology doesn't mean shit to Neil. He feels the fist tightening in his hair and just goes limp, letting Neil get out his aggressions. He's learned to do that from years of practice. Susan gasps when Neil smashes his head against the mirror behind him, her eyes wide and frightened as the glass cracks. It doesn't shatter, so he's safe from any shards. But the impact still hurts. 

"Max!" 

Susan's relieved voice suddenly rings out amidst the sound of Billy slumping to the floor, back against the wall. There's the sound of the front door opening and then he hears Max's voice and Susan and Neil start fussing over her. 

"Where have you been? I was so worried-"

"I just went to the arcade. I got a ride back with my friends." Max answers almost nonchalantly like every kid her age does when they have no idea what they did wrong. 

"It's very dangerous to be out there by yourself Maxine." 

That's Neil's voice.

And Billy doesn't care how his eyes tear up when he hears how gentle and caring he sounds. He sniffles quietly in his room, glancing up at the mirror that was broken for no reason. Neil did that. Smashed his head into a goddamn mirror. He starts to get up but freezes when Neil steps back into his room. He sees Max in the doorway and their eyes meet for a millisecond before Neil pulls it closed. Just outside he can hear Max asking Susan what happened but of course, they've got to make up some lie because Max doesn't know about the abuse. 

Neil sneers at him on the floor like the pathetic waste of space he is and he keeps his eyes on the floor. 

"You keep screwing up boy. This is strike two. The next time I give you an order, and you don't obey, I'll break more than just a mirror." 

It's not yelled at him, or roared like the usual; it's hushed and almost reverent but Billy isn't deceived. He knows Neil still wants to strangle the fuck out of him. The man is incensed. 

And it's only when he walks out the room and slams the door shut, that Billy remembers to breathe, never-ending tears burning his eyes. 

He looks back up at the broken mirror,

...and cries some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S This actually happened to me. A parent (i wont say which one) smashed my head into a mirror and it didn't shatter but it cracked. I've gotten over it though.


	13. Easy Come, Easy Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's torn between the people he loves the most and considers his family; and the boy who made him feel things he'd never thought possible. Who does he choose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oo weeee.... enjoy.

Easy Come, Easy Go

"So, is it a formal affair or...." 

Steve scoffs and chucks a small, throw-pillow at Billy who promptly catches it and tosses it back at him. 

They're currently on Steve's bed supposedly doing _homework_ but all Steve's been doing is talking Billy's ear off about this little event his mother is hosting later that night. Apparently it's tradition to throw parties everytime someone in the Harrington family makes some great achievement or something. If Billy was being honest, the idea sounded great. Steve could use some resocializing with his friends and this would give Billy the chance to apologize to both Max and Lucas. But that didn't mean that he liked the idea of being in the same proximity as all of Steve's friends. He's still an outsider. 

Still the bad guy. 

"No, it's not a formal affair _but,_ I will suggest that you button up your shirt for the evening." Steve finally answers, sprawling out on the bed, his limbs invading Billy's personal space. 

"Hm, so jeans and a t-shirt then." Billy wonders aloud, winking at Steve who's now squirming around restlessly, his stretched out legs kicking a few books off the bed. Billy grabs the offending legs and holds them down in his lap. 

"Hey- Billy!" Steve squeaks in a high pitch he's not very proud of as fingers start tickling his feet. He's outright having a seizure now, arms flailing and legs kicking out desperately to get away from Billy. He's laughing maniacally but he's actually crying on the inside. Some more books fall to the floor with a loud thud.

_"Is everything alright up there?"_

Judy's voice startles them both and Billy guiltily let's go of Steve's legs, flying off the bed to pick up the fallen books while Steve fixes himself and goes back to his side of the bed. 

"Everything's fine mom!" He coughs, both of them listening closely for footsteps. 

There are none and they breathe a sigh of relief. Steve pouts at Billy sitting at the edge of the bed and beckons him closer with a slight flick of his wrist, a pretty, _pretty_ smile and a sparkly look in his eyes. It's that fucking _come hither_ look that Steve seems to have perfected down to the way he appears incredibly shy and sweet but there's also a carnal heat in his eyes that makes Billy's jeans a bit too tight. 

He obeys without another word and crawls up the bed slowly until he's hovering right over the pretty brunette, their eyes never losing sight of the other. Steve sinks further into the mattress and holds his arms out to pull Billy closer. Their bodies touch before their lips do and it's a task to keep quiet when Billy feels so firm and hot against Steve's thighs. He brings his hands up to cup Billy's face, bringing their lips together in the softest kiss he's ever experienced. Billy's tongue sliding over his, their lips woven together so that he can't even tell where his ends and Billy's starts. It's beautiful and intimate... and Steve's certain that he's never felt like this with anyone else. 

When he opens his eyes, Billy's eyes are still closed... and they're still kissing but Steve brushes his fingers against the dark splotchy bruise that blushes darkly at his temple and gets more faded as it reaches his left cheek. He'd seen it earlier when they were at school but figured that he'd ask about it when they were alone. 

"Are you gonna tell me where this came from?" He murmurs gently, pressing a soft kiss to the discolored area. He'd hate to think that Billy had gotten himself into another fight. Nancy's voice slips into his head, _...if he's got that much of an anger problem, something like this is gonna happen again._

Billy's eyes snap open at the touch and he looks a bit lost. He stares wordlessly at Steve for a hot second before pulling away from him. 

"You've seen me with bruises before... all of this Steve." He sighs.

He's back to picking up books from the floor. Steve just frowns sadly at him and remains where he is. From where he's sitting, Billy doesn't even look remotely angry- maybe just a little bit distracted- but Steve doesn't know his tells that well. Again, he has to remind himself that Billy can get angry at any time and snap. He hates when he gets those thoughts because at times, he can see the boy really trying his best to be better. But then, other times like right now, he's acting cagey and there are bruises on him like he'd gotten into a fight or something. 

That scares Steve. He can't help it. 

He's _felt_ that wrath already; is still paying for it. 

"Did you- ...did you, ...have a fight with someon-" 

"It's nothing Steve." Billy answers tiredly after trying hard to ignore the soft brown stare. He fiddles with the bent pages of a notebook- Steve's- and for a minute, Steve thinks he's going to say something. Waits patiently with baited breath for it.

But then Billy shakes his head and gently rests the notebook on the bed, still avoiding his eyes. He slips on his jean jacket, slings his bag over the shoulder and finally gives Steve a small smile. It's weak, but Steve takes it as a positive. Billy could've easily gotten mad at him which would only lead to... bad things. They were on thin ice here... or at least, that's what it felt like.

"I'll see you later tonight." Billy whispers to him, planting a sweet kiss on his forehead before taking his leave. 

 

..............

"How's Jonathan?" 

Steve feels a bit put off and congested by Nancy's constant badgering about Billy, so he decides to shift the conversation to Jonathan. They're at his house helping Judy decorate and set the table for the big event that's in about four hours. After Billy left, Nancy had come over with the kids who were currently pestering Judy down in the kitchen. Steve had been itching ever since he'd seen the bruise on Billy's face and he'd wanted to press Billy further on the issue but the boy had acted so squirrely about the whole thing. Everything about Billy as off late seemed to be frustrating and unstable; it made his head hurt and his stomach upset. 

"He's great." Nancy finally answers with little trepidation. 

"Yeah, his birthday's coming up and we've been planning a surprise for him. Me and the kids I mean." 

"Oh." Steve mutters and he feels almost stupid for responding with one word. It makes him sound bratty and almost jealous. He doesn't feel inclined to be jealous for anything about Nancy and her new boyfriend but something about recovering from his injuries and getting back to his old life made all the feelings he'd once had come flooding back. He felt terrible physically, sad because of Billy and suffocated by Nancy and the kids. 

He just wanted to be left alone... but cuddled up with Billy in the backseat of his Camaro again... mood swings came after him like bullets it seemed. 

"Have you heard anything from Hopper lately?" He asks randomly, suddenly thinking of the whole Upside Down mess they'd been in a few months ago. He still had nightmares.

"About what?" Nancy replies and she's sitting on his bed now, _right in the spot where Billy had been._

"Ab-... about the... y'know, Upside Down and the lab." He mumbles, left eye practically wincing hard as she screwed up her nose at the heavy scent of Billy's cologne. 

"Oh, yeah- no. Hopper hasn't heard anything from Owens or the Staties. It's been pretty quiet around here ever since the... Mind Flayer business." She says quietly, frowning at one of the books on the bed. A closer look reveals Billy's name in the front cover of the book and she blanches. 

"What're you doing with Billy's book?" 

Steve freezes and keeps his back turned towards her, his shoulders stiff and hunched. He can see her staring expectantly at him in the mirror and he slams his eyes shut, shaking his head in defeat. His fists are clenched on the surface of the dresser. 

"We- ...he was helping me catch up on English and Trig." He mumbles knowing that she's about to condescend and bracing himself for the impact. Her exhausted sigh catches him offguard though. 

"I knew that wasn't your cologne I smelled earlier." 

It's his turn to snort, oddly amused because of all the things he was expecting to hear her say, _that_ wasn't one of them. When he turns around, she's glaring at him though and his grin freezes on his face. 

"What d'you want me to do Nancy? He offered to help." 

"You can ask me for help. I always helped you with Trig and English Steve!" She argues sounding a bit hurt. Steve folds his arms and lean against the dresser to keep himself up. 

"That was when we were together. We're not anymore. And Billy didn't have anything better to do, so he decided to help me. I don't see why that's such a bad thing." 

Nancy gaped incredulously at him as if he was an idiot who couldn't see what was right in front of him and quickly got off the bed, folding her arms just like him. 

"It's a bad thing because he's the one who made you miss an entire month of school. It's not that illogical Steve. He beat the crap out of you and now you're befriending him as if none of it ever happened!" 

"That's not true! It took me a while to even be close to him without flinching in fear or whatever. I didn't just decide on day one to be best buddies with him! Jesus, who do you think I am Nance-"

"Uh... hey guys." Dustin coughs, awkwardly standing in the doorway, eyes darting from Steve to Nancy who are both facing each other from across the room, arms folded and eyes narrowed at each other. Steve sighs and nods at Dustin.

"Hey Henderson. What's up?" 

"This whole Billy situation I guess." The kid mutters and Steve feels his stomach twist uncomfortably. Of course he'd heard them arguing about Billy. Jesus, this wasn't going like he'd imagined. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration... not some _hate parade_ on Hargrove. Dustin can see the strained look on Steve's face and he can tell how torn he feels, having to choose between his real friends and the guy who beat him within an inch of his life. Steve reaches and picks up a notebook from his bed, gesturing at Nancy with it.

"Look, I'll give it back to him when he comes by later. I was done taking notes from it anyway." 

"What're you doing with his book? Wait- was he here? After school?" Dustin chimes in, his voice ringing high in Steve's ears. 

"Was _who_ here?" Lucas asks innocently as the rest of the party run up the stairs to join them. 

"Hey Steve." Will greets shyly, wringing his hands together.

"Your mom sorta kicked us out of the kitchen." 

"Said we were doing more damage than actually helping." Max grins sheepishly and Steve blinks at her for a minute, thinking about Billy. He's been telling Billy about this goddamn party of his mother's doing since the week started. Now he isn't so sure if inviting the guy was a bright idea. Especially if Nancy and the kids were going to be there. And then his mom had invited Hopper too, who was bringing El- Jane and most likely Joyce and- Jesus he thought this was going to be a small affair. He quickly sits down on the edge of his bed as his vision goes blurry for a few seconds. 

"Guys give him some space." Nancy warns as the kids start crowding around him to see if he's okay. He waves them off casually, wanting _all of them_ to give him some space but he doesn't say anything. Doesn't want to be rude and hurt their feelings. They did care genuinely about his well-being after all. We're just being protective- which was refreshingly new to him. 

"So you invited him to the party." Dustin sighs, sounding disappointed. 

"Who?" Mike questions, but he kinda looks like he already knows the answer. The look Steve gives them tells them everything they needed to know and Max instantly shakes her head, panic on her face.

"Billy? You invited Billy? Steve- you can't!" She swallows nervously, the pleading tone in her voice making him feel bad. Lucas holds her hand and Dustin turns to look at him pointedly with a raised brow. 

"I just thought it'd be the right thing to do. He took care of me guys..." He mutters but they're all unimpressed, as if they know some bigger truth or something. Apparently they did. 

"I know he probably seemed apologetic," Max sighs, shaking her head. 

"But he hasn't forgotten what we- what I did to him at the Byers house. I _know_ he hasn't." 

Steve hangs his head in shame as he faces the facts about Billy Hargrove. Maybe it was the fact that the plea had come from the bastard's own step-sister that made Steve feel some type of way. _See,_ a little clearer. He remembers Dustin and Lucas telling him about the bruises on Max's wrist and her arms from Billy grabbing her roughly during arguments. He knows about the verbal abuse and the shouting and yelling. He's well aware of the story of Billy almost running them over on their bikes on Halloween. _Billy didn't even know them at the time._ Jesus. And then there was basketball which he didn't want to think about at the moment because it left a sore spot in his chest and his ego. But once again, Billy was to blame for that. 

For all of it. 

_So conflicted._

 

....................

Billy glared at the little white teddy bear staring blanky at him from behind the glass window. Well, technically it wasn't _little..._ it was more medium sized and it wasn't actually a teddy bear, but a crisp, pristine looking polar bear which was ten times more adorable than a regular teddy. And it wasn't staring _blankly_ back at him. It had huge, dark brown eyes that kind of reminded him of Steve. 

_Christ, when did I become such a sap?_ he thinks wryly to himself, slipping inconspicuously into the gift shop. The bears in front of him came in all sorts of gaudy, pale and dark colours. Some were bright pink with wispy fur and others were soft and brown with curly furs. He saw some red ones that seemed more appropriate for Valentine's and some Christmas-themed ones with red and green and white hats. He reaches the "Get Well Soon!" section and rolls his eyes. None said, "Yay, you're better now!" so he'd have to settle for a get well soon bear. Luckily, he finds the same polar bear with the dark brown eyes and the same theme embossed in pretty silver script across a silky pink heart. 

_Perfect._

If Billy was being honest with himself, he hadn't actually bought a gift or a present for anyone in his life. Maybe buying his mother some stuff she needed like medication and food could be considered presents but he'd always regarded them as necessities. Not gifts to show his affection. He's always had trouble with that. Not even some of the girls he'd dated for two weeks at most got cute, special presents from him. Not that they were complaining- he knew they just wanted him for his body. _Cos that's exactly what he'd wanted them for._

But when you had to buy a special something for someone who actually _meant_ something to him... well, that was one of the toughest spots he's ever been in. Of course, the logical follow up would be... _holy fucking shit- Steve meant something to him!_ That was something he wasn't quite willing to admit out loud, but from time to time, he could whisper it to himself in the dark. And smile about it. And not feel bad about it. And it would be perfect. For the while at least. 

Earlier when Steve had asked him about his bruises, he'd felt the frightening urge to let his anger course through him and let it all explode with a harsh, "mind your business Harrington!" Because as much as he'd liked being with Steve and spending time with the boy, he never wanted _anyone_ finding out about Neil. It would just tarnish his reputation and make people pity him. And he hated when people treated him like a charity case... it made him _ashamed_ to be Billy Hargrove. Made him look like a coward. 

But he'd kept in his anger... at least until he'd left the Harrington's driveway. On the road, he'd floored the accelerator with a harsh curse and had torn up the asphalt, his engine roaring as he took out his frustrations on the wheel, smacking it and accidentally hitting the horn. And when he'd gotten home, he'd resorted to punching the tiles in the bathroom until his knuckles throbbed in protest and he had to stop. Him being resolutely calm at the gift shop was the after math of all of that repressed anger. That was when it was safe to be around him. 

Christ, he was a mess. 

But he could always count on Steve to make everything less painful, more tolerable. 

Better.

.................

The party had started at 8PM sharp but things really got underway around 9:45PM. The music was loud and the food was really good. The company was even better than Steve had remembered. The kids were discussing games and movies animatedly, Jane just there with a sparkle of interest in her eyes. Steve had just been a part of that discussion but he's quickly stepped away to speak with the grownups. There was only so much kiddie-drama he could take in one day. He sees Nancy and Jonathan coming up to him and he fights the fucking desire to head in the other direction. 

"Hey man." Jonathan greets in that weird, reserved way he always does. 

"Hey, Jonathan." Steve grins a bit awkwardly, shaking the guy's hand. He's trying his best to be normal about the whole thing but leave it to Byers to make everything awkward. He's looking down and can't meet Steve's eyes. They hadn't spoken after the whole Mind Flayer incident... after Steve had told Nancy that it was okay. 

"How are you doing?" Jonathan chokes out after a slight nudge from Nancy. Steve almost bursts out laughing. She has him whipped and suddenly he's not so sad about the whole situation anymore. 

"I'm doing better, thanks for asking." He answers honestly, extremely grateful as Hopper calls him out from the other side of the room. He quickly makes his escape from a relieved looking Jonathan and a gaping in surprise Nancy. 

"Hey kid." The Chief rumbles, ruffling Steve's hair in that annoying elderly way. Steve narrows his eyes at the man, fixing his hair with a few fingers through the strands. 

"Hey Hop, how has everything been since the lab?" He blurts out and can't help but follow it up with a slight revelation that his nightmares had made him curious. Hopper just nods in understanding though, wine glass in his hand.

"I haven't heard anything from Owens yet."

"Yet?" Steve gulps nervously.

"Don't worry about it kid. It's just some cleaning up and damage control with the press. There's gonna be a meeting with the CIA, myself and the few remaining people from Hawkins lab involved in the next month or so. I'll make sure and let you know what's going on then." 

Hopper's voice, although it's grave, its comforting at the same time and Steve's grateful for the man. Hopper always seemed to know what he's doing even in the craziest of situations. 

"How're you doing kid? You had us all worried there for a minute." Jim mutters, wolfish blue eyes piercing Steve's brown ones knowingly. But Steve, ever the illusionist, shrugs it off with nonchalance. 

"I'm fine. I feel great, in fact." 

"Mhm." Jim snorts, calling him out on his bullshit with just one look. 

"Stevie honey?" 

That's his mom... embarrassing him in front of the Chief of Hawkins Police. He shoots Jim a withering stare when the man chuckles as Judy joins them. 

"Hey mom." He mumbles, taking the glass of juice she hands him. "Thanks." 

"Sweetie, I haven't seen Billy. Is he coming?" She chirps worriedly and his chest twinges a bit. 

"I don't know mom, maybe he decided not to." He shrugs feigning nonchalance, noticing how his mother seemed genuinely bummed by Billy's absence. He was secretly worried about Billy not showing up but he'd tried masking his concern because when Billy finally showed up, he would have to... talk to him. 

"Billy?" Jim echoes curiously as Judy leaves them to greet Joyce- apparently they were high school acquaintances. 

"Uh, yeah, Billy Hargrove." 

Steve wonders how much the Chief knows about Billy, seeing that the boy seems so elusive to everyone else, _including himself._

Jim shakes his head. "She likes him then? Your mother?" 

He nods slowly, already seeing the trepidation in the Chief's eyes... in his entire demeanor. 

"If she only knew huh?" He snorts humorlessly, Jim grunting in careful agreement. 

Steve excuses himself politely to go to the kitchen, draining his glass of juice and refilling it. Every minute that ticks by has his heart hammering wildly in his chest, his stomach in knots and his skin feverishly cold with a sterile heat burning just under the first layer. He doesn't know how to react when he hears the rumbling of a familiar engine and suddenly everyone, save for Hopper, Joyce and Judy becomes silent, their faces all turning to look expectantly at Steve. Nancy's practically burning holes into him and Dustin and Mike already look pissed off. Lucas is holding Max's hand, and though he tries not to show it, Steve can see that he's scared. Max's blue green eyes glisten at him pleadingly. The music's still playing loudly so the abrupt pause doesn't seem so awkward- the adults barely notice. 

Steve rests his glass carefully on the counter before going to answer the door. Everyone else carries on distractedly.

"Hey." Billy murmurs softly when Steve opens the door. 

He's in those tight, blue jeans that Steve loves and he's got on a white t-shirt with his favorite black leather jacket over it. His hair looks neat and he has a slightly nervous grin on his face. HIs hands are behind his back like he's hiding something and Steve quickly chances a glance at the others chattering behind him. 

"Billy... hey..." He greets with a grimace slash smile on his face that Billy doesn't seem to pick up on. 

"You look great." 

Billy rolls his eyes but chuckles anyway. 

"Thanks... uh, so do you. Sorry for being late." 

"Oh... it's okay." Steve stammers, wringing his hands nervously. 

"You look nervous." Billy states slowly, his smile gradually disappearing as he notices Steve's discomfort. 

Steve's already dying from the momentum of waiting for Billy to arrive so he just goes for it. 

"I.... um, I know... I wanted you to- look, I'm really sorry, I never meant to do this but... I think you should go." He chokes out and it's the hardest thing he's ever had to do. His heart is already clenching painfully his his chest as he dares to look up into Billy's eyes and he almost changes his mind when he does. 

Billy's face is a perfect mask of control and happy nonchalance with horror, dismay and confusion in the cracks. He's smiling back at Steve but Steve can see it in his eyes. 

_He's hurt._

"It- it's just that, my mom invited some really close family friends and-" He tries again weakly but Billy waves him off with a brilliant smile.

"It's cool- I get it, Steve. Um, I got this for you anyway... it's stupid but... yeah..." He grins, handing Steve a blue and silver gift bag with a silver bow on the front. Steve's heart is fucking shattering by the second as he takes the gift... Billy's practically shoved it into his hands... his eyes following Billy's every move. 

"I- better get going..." The blue eyes boy smiles- _just keeps fucking smiling through the hurt-_ before getting into his car and driving away. 

 

Steve couldn't see the tears in Billy's eyes because Billy didn't let him. 

And Steve? 

....Steve stands there holding a soft white polar bear that says "Get Well Soon", with a little note attached that's in Billy's neat handwriting.

_"Couldn't find one that said 'Yay, you're all better!' So, I got you this guy. xoxo, Billy."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was listening to Kodaline for this chapter.... maybe that's why it came out this way...


	14. I Know It's Never Gonna Come Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy doesn't have to look far to see that he's never going to amount to anything but what his father says he'll be. Steve has to see that too. He's no good for pretty boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for making y'all cry last chapter 0_0 ..... here come the pain.....

I Know It's Never Gonna Come Again 

 

Billy has had a lot of heart breaking moments in his life that had him saying "fuck it!" and just giving up on the hope of a happy life in general. Most of it's come from his father and some, his mother. Neil and Marianne Hargrove were the two constants in his life that dictated how he lived his life and eventually he knew, he'd end up like either one of them. He could see himself becoming an angry, resentful adult like Neil; with permanent frown lines across his forehead and eyes that burned with a hatred and disgust for everything and everyone. And he could see himself becoming a sorry excuse for a human being, like Marianne; eyes always sad, red and filled with tears and the stories of a thousand sorrows. He could just imagine her straggly blonde hair and it's not far-fetched to imagine his hair like that. Letting himself go, trying to find validation at the bottom of a bottle or a crack pipe. 

One or the other... he's bound to turn out like his parents. 

That's what he believes now anyway. Before tonight, he'd convinced himself to believe that Steve could be his saving grace. That Steve gave him purpose and light in the dismal play that was his life. Taking care of the boy and spending time with him for hours on end had made things more tolerable lately. He could deal with Neil's abuse and he could deal with his anger issues better when Steve was around. Now, that all seemed to be a dream... a vile, morbid and irreversible dream that messed with his head and made him confuse fantasy with reality. 

_I think you should go..._

Steve's voice just keeps playing in his head over and over. And Jesus he knows he's torturing himself but he keeps listening to it anyway. Because Steve said it. He finally came out and said it... which meant that he'd finally seen through Billy's facade. Steve realised early on that he was nothing but toxic and it was better to not get too close. Smart decision. _Whoever told Steve he was stupid didn't know him that well._ Everyone else in his life didn't get too close... why should Steve be any different? Neil always told him he'd end up like this. Alone and wallowing in his misery. 

And he tried so fucking hard not to let it get the best of him but goddamnit the pain in his chest was too much. He let out a pitiful scoff and rounded a corner haphazardly, the tyres of the Camaro screeching loudly in the quiet neighborhood. His eyes were wet and his vision was blurry but he didn't care. Anything to distract him from the pain in his chest... felt like a fucking heart attack if you asked him. 

But he deserved it. 

He wasn't about to lie to himself; not tonight. What did he expect? For Steve to just choose him over his friends? _His family?_ In what fucking world was Billy worth their time? Judy liked him well enough, but he wasn't stupid. He saw the rest of them behind Steve, and in the window. Nancy and Byers... Max, glaring at him with Lucas by her side avoiding his gaze. And though it fucking killed him to put on that smile, he knew he had to do it. For Steve. Billy didn't deserve Steve's friendship... so whatever time they'd spent together was more than he'd ever bargained for. And he was grateful for those small moments. 

"Thanks Harrington." He sniffles softly to himself.

He should've been paying attention to the road then, and not letting his tears completely blur his vision. But- spur of the moment and all that, caused him to lose sight of the road and just as he gets a grip, the fucking thing crashes hard into a lightpole beam on the side of the road. The impact sends him face first into the wheel and his neck stings like it's been snapped. The airbags don't come out on impact thank God, because it would've broken his neck. But he's momentarily out of it. Something warm drips down from his hairline, between his eyes, down his nose and over his lips. His tongue sticks out in reflex and he tastes copper. 

_Blood._

"Fuck."

He groans and turns the engine off before the fucking thing overheats and explodes with him in it. Thick white smoke is billowing out from under his hood that's bent at the front from the impact. The lightpole beam is otherwise unharmed. His vision in edging out with a soft black it he crawls out of the car anyway, hands and knees cutting on the rough asphalt. More blood drips onto the pitch, soaking into the cracks and crevices and he swipes at his forehead, feeling a gash burning there. 

"Fuck!" He hisses again, his neck throbbing in an intense pain. Whip lash probably. In a fit of misplaced anger he starts driving his boots into the side of the car, screaming vitriol at God, at Neil... at the state of California; at nothing in particular. Tears are streaming down his face as he gasps for breaths that aren't coming fast enough. 

A quick look around tells him that there aren't any houses nearby. But he knows he's not far from home. 

After retrieving his keys from the car, he starts walking. 

 

.................

Steve spends the rest of his night locked up in his room, buried under his blanket with the polar bear in his arms held tight, tears continually falling and drying on his face. He can hear the music playing just outside his door, the vibration muffled. It thumps hard alot with the heart in his hollow chest and he wishes that everything could just stop. He wishes that Billy would come back... and forgive him for being so stupid. He wishes that Nancy and the others would just understand how much he's changed. He just fucking wishes that he didn't have to choose between the people he loved the most. There's a soft knocking at his door but he ignores it. Pretends he doesn't hear it until it opens and his mother calls his name softly.

"Stevie?" 

If he doesn't move, she'd believe he was asleep-

The bed sinks behind him and suddenly she's sitting behind him, rubbing his arm and stroking his hair gently. He quickly wipes away his tears and sits up.

"Sweetie, ...what happened with you and Billy?" She asks as if trying to understand why he'd asked to be alone before running to his room after Billy left. 

"Nothing." He answers quickly and he can see on her face that she doesn't believe a word of it. He shakes his head.

"He couldn't make it. Just dropped this off." 

He shows her the cute bear with the pink and silver heart and she marvels at it like mothers do about everything _cute_ about their kids. 

"Did he get this for you? Aw, Stevie that's so sweet." She coos, squeezing it and feeling the soft fur on the ears and feet. Steve rolls his eyes, slightly amused but a bit sentimental so he grabs the bear from her and hugs it. 

_Those were his furry ears and feet to play with._

"Is that why you're so upset?" She questions carefully knowing that Steve has a habit of clamming up about certain things. 

"I'm not upset." Steve grouses, turning back to lie on his side, bear held tight to his chest, his back turned to her. 

"It's okay if he couldn't make it sweetie. I mean, he visits you every other day." She jokes, patting him on the shoulder. That only makes him feel worse. Would Billy even want to see him after tonight? 

"Is the party over?" He mumbles sleepily into his pillow. 

"Yes it is. The Chief just left with Joyce and Jane. Nancy and the kids left earlier." 

Steve doesn't say anything again. Just closes his eyes and tries his damnest not to think about Billy's face falling in sheer disappointment. 

"Get some sleep, sweetie." 

He doesn't answer. Because he knows he's not going to sleep tonight. 

Sleep only comes easy with the sound of Billy's heartbeat. 

Right now, the silence is too loud.

 

.......................

Max is all tuckered out after the party at Steve's. She's tired and her face hurts from smiling so much. She blames that on Lucas and his nerdy antics. _God, she loves that fool._ The party had been fun, just hanging out with the people closest to her, celebrating the fact that Steve was all better now. She's never had that many friends before. Back in California, Bakersfield had been a tough town, with too many cool kids and not enough space for each of their egos. What made it worse was that her stepbrother treated her like scum the minute he moved in with them. Apparently his birth mother had died, so his father had to take him in. But that's besides the point; she'd never had so many cool friends before and suddenly, coming to Hawkins, Indiana didn't seem like such a bad thing. 

Even the Upside Down and the demodogs were a part of her, she felt. Like Dart was to Dustin. Family. And loved ones she'd get to spend the rest of her days with. Because Neil said they weren't moving again. He promised. Max just wished Billy could be a part of her life too. But he just seemed to make things more complicated. Always jumping to conclusions, itching for a fight. He was a scrapper. An egotistical, muscle head from San Diego who only cared about beaches, bitches and booze. Not to mention the fact that he was a total bully. He'd attacked Lucas back at the Byers house and he would've killed Steve if she hadn't stepped in. Shedding want to do it but Jesus, he needed to stop. 

What surprises her, is the fact that Billy had somehow managed to volunteer to be Steve's caretaker. That was a new one. Billy had always been a total jerk, with a bad attitude and terrible hair, but, when she thought about it, her stepbrother only seemed to act that way at home, when Neil was around. She couldn't explain his behaviour at school but, in the Hargrove household, whenever Neil was home, Billy was extremely reserved, never looking up, never making eye contact, hiding in his room when he wasn't needed. She'd guessed it to be unresolved tension from Billy living with his mother. 

She can still recall the look on Billy's face after Steve had told him to leave. It was an expression she'd never seen on him before. It looked hurt and utterly devastated even though he was smiling. His eyes were misting slightly but he'd handed Steve the gift bag with a little shrug and just left. The thing that hit her the most was how soft the engine sounded as the Camaro drove off into the distance. The thought hadn't crossed her mind, but- maybe Billy _was_ really trying to change. Believe it or not, she wasn't the first person to think that. When Lucas had heard about Steve befriending Billy, that had been his initial reaction. 

Surprising at first. But then again, Lucas was a very forgiving person. It's why she liked him in the first place. 

_What the hell happened to you, boy?"_

The sound of Neil's rough voice suddenly cuts across her thoughts like a knife and she jumps. She glanced at the clock on her wall and saw 12:56AM. Billy had come home _way_ past curfew. Well- they didn't exactly have a curfew but Neil expected everyone to be home by ten for the latest. Where the hell did Billy go after leaving Steve's party? Quietly, she creeps out of her bed and tiptoes all the way to her door, pressing her ear to the door to eavesdrop on the conversation just on the other side. 

_"I... "_

Billy mumbles something incoherently and Neil has to ask him to repeat himself. He sounds drunk which is typical Billy behaviour. But, ...Neil actually sounds genuinely concerned when he asks, _"Are you okay?"_

But then he follows up with a stern, _"I'm not taking you to the hospital. We're in enough expense as it is."_

Billy mumbles something again and then she hears soft, slow footsteps. Heavy boots thud on the floor and she can feel the vibration of it from her room. 

_"You left your car where?"_ Neil growls out and she hears another thud. A harder one that sounds like a slap. Or a hard shove. Yeah, something definitely crashed into the wall. She hears Billy grunt out in... pain? Hurt? There's another round of muffled voices and then more footsteps. She quickly scampers back to her bed and burrows under her covers that don't seem to work. The sound of the front door slamming makes her skin chill icily to the bone. 

 

......................

 

Turns out his father _was_ actually a heartless wretch. 

Billy sighs tiredly as he trudges slowly back to his crashed car, an extra jacket in hand and a couple of bandages wrapped inside of a blanket. The sky is still a deep indigo and there are a few stars strewn about, like diamonds across a velvet gown. It's freezing as well- he can practically see his breath fogging in front of him with every exhale. He limps back to the wreck, wincing at the sight of his beloved Camaro with its hood folded and smoking slightly. The light above him casts a morbid, orange shade over him and he almost believes that he's in hell. Yeah. 

Maybe he died in the crash and his soul was just entering the gates of hell. 

The car door squeaks open and the car protests softly as he climbs into the driver's seat. All the windows go up to keep him from freezing to death and he stretches his legs along the length of the seat. There's no time to rest. The bleeding hasn't stopped one damn bit and the rough shove Neil had given him a few minutes ago still rattled his insides. The man was more angry that he'd wrecked the car- not the fact that he'd almost snapped his neck like a twig. Or that he was bleeding profusely. 

"Fuck..." He hisses, pressing a thick wad of cotton soaked in water to the gash hidden just beneath his hairline. He didn't have any chemical to disinfect it with so water would just have to do. It still stung like any other alcohol would. He told himself that the tears slipping quietly down his face were because of the stinging pain from the injury but he knew better. And he wasn't going to lie to himself about it- didn't have the energy to. 

Steve didn't want him anymore. 

That much was clear. 

_I think you should go..._

A deep sob escapes his throat out of nowhere and he curses, closing his eyes and shaking his head as he presses the bandages harder on the cut. It burned and the skin felt cringey under the pressure of his hand but that pain was _nothing_ like the one in his chest. It took him a while to admit but, Steve's rejection hurt. It hurt him to his core and that made him angry. Not at Steve but at himself. 

God knew why he kept people at arm's length. Billy fucking knew why he didn't let himself get too close to people. They always ended up leaving him broken on the floor with his heart on his fucking sleeve. It's why he never allowed himself to _feel;_ or smile or be truly happy. Because he knew sooner or later everything would just come crashing down around him. And he'd be left to clean up the mess. 

Neil always told him that he'd end up like this. Exactly like his mother; sad, alone, with no one to talk to and perfectly dead inside. 

_You want to know why I left?! It's because you're just like her!_

He guesses that now he knows exactly what his father meant. All those times in California when he'd tried to be the son Neil wanted him to be, constantly failing but always hopeful... he never stopped to think that maybe Neil was actually right and that _he_ really was the problem. It's no wonder why Max was the better kid. And no wonder why she had all those friends who loved her unconditionally and were there for her when she needed them. Everything he touched turned to dust. And every time he tried to be good, it always backfired. He's been trying _so_ hard to make up for what he did. He really was. 

But then again, _one good deed was not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness._ Trying to make good with Steves mother didn't absolve him of all his previous sins. He was scum... an unlovable, worthless, pitiful excuse for a son and an even worse human being. 

And suddenly he felt happy. A smile broke out on his face through the tears and the sniffling and the small whines because he finally realized that this wasn't such a bad thing. 

Steve had just saved himself from Billy. 

And that was the most he could ask for, because he knew that if Steve hadn't gotten rid of him, he would've fucked up somewhere later down the line anyway and would've ended up doing more harm than good. Steve didn't need that kind of shit in his life. 

Steve didn't need _Billy._ Not anymore. 

 

...................

The next morning, Neil calls up a towing service that takes the Camaro to the shop for fixing. Billy gets a ride back home to grab a shower and he quickly hops in the bathroom before Max or Susan can see him. The reflection in the mirror is one of misery and heavily concealed hurt. His blue eyes are bloodshot and glare back at him disgustedly. Darkened, dried blood cakes on his face and in his hairline, making the blonde curls stiff. His skin is pale and bruised and if he cranes his body just right, he can make out a dark bruise on the back of his neck, probably from the whiplash. He's a mess but it doesn't matter. He doesn't give a damn. 

He braves through the hot shower, his head injury stinging like a motherfucker and slips on dark blue jeans, a white wife-beater and another one of his much revered jean jackets. It has lipstick stains on the sleeve but _fuck it._ Neil ends up driving him to school, much to his embarrassment but the man doesn't say a word save for the expected, "Don't forget to pick up the car from Bobby's after school." Turns out his car wasn't in that bad a shape and with the help of an extra thousand, he was able to get it fixed in a day. 

Now, he sits in class with eight stitches in his hairline thanks to the school nurse, who thankfully didn't care to ask many questions. He's tired and drowsy and his back and his neck aches from the accident and sleeping in his car all night. To everyone else, his current state just seemed like the ugly remnants of a hangover that probably made him much cooler to the rest of assholes at Hawkins High. Tommy had high-fived him on it in the halls and Cheryl and Tina had winked at him suggestively. Chicks dig battlescars. 

Steve hasn't looked at him all day. And he's perfectly fine with that. The brunette is sitting just three tables in front of him to the right, yet he feels light years apart. Steve looks excruciatingly beautiful today. He's got on tight-fitting, high-waisted black jeans, and that fuzzy, long sleeved red sweater of his. It's Billy's favorite. He'd told Steve that. And now he feels dumb for doing so. He probably looked so fucking stupid right now. He snorts obnoxiously to mask the sudden spasm in his chest, blue inked pen doodling a hole in the pages of his History notebook. 

When the bell rings he's out of that fucking classroom so fast, it seemed like he was never in there in the first place. He doesn't want to see Steve. Doesn't want Steve to see him. Couldn't-

"Billy?" 

_Fuck._

He freezes, standing still in the hallway, students flowing unbothered around him. The soft voice might as well have been the bang of a gunshot. He winces as Steve approaches him carefully, books in his arms clasped tightly to his chest. Billy doesn't look him in the eyes- that would fucking _kill_ him. So he chooses to stare at the floor, at Steve's white Nikes with the red checks. His feet always looks cute in those. 

"Can we talk?" Steve asks politely, trying to catch Billy's eyes but it doesn't happen. Instead, Billy shrugs and lets Steve lead him to a deserted classroom further down the hall. His thoughts are so fucking loud inside his head as they slip into the room, Steve locking the door behind him. His eyes start to water but he quickly blinks the sensation away, swallowing hard. He's done with crying. 

Steve drops his books and his bag on the teacher's desk and sits quietly on it. Billy's leaning up against a desk at the front, not looking, not speaking, not breathing. Someone could fucking cut the tension between them with a chainsaw and it still wouldn't make a difference. Steve's got his heart on his sleeve. And Billy's completely ripped out his; buried it in the asphalt with the rest of his blood last night. 

"What happened to you?" 

Billy's been expecting that question and he sighs at how disappointed it makes him feel. His stitches itch at the question. Of course Steve thinks he got in another fight. After all, he was the monster right? He doesn't answer, his jaw locked tight, teeth grinding against each other and his arms folded tightly. 

"I'm sorry." Steve murmurs, his small voice shaking with careful emotion. 

"For what?" Billy snorts jokingly, feigning nonchalance. It's a petty move and he can see the surprise and hurt flash across Steve's face. _This time he looks up straight into those doe-eyes and holds it there._ Steve has to look away. 

"I- ...I didn't mean to-" 

Billy stops him with a headshake before he could say anything else. 

"It's okay Steve." He grins softly, ever the master of keeping up appearances. 

"Billy-" Steve whispers, slipping down from on the table to walk over to him. Billy quickly widens the distance between them and the action has Steve stopping on his tracks. Those huge, soft brown eyes blink up at him tearfully and Billy has to fight every fucking instinct in him from going over to the boy and holding him. 

"I shouldn'tve done that. Billy I'm so sorry." Steve tries again, this time crying for real. Billy's fists clench hard at his sides but he gives Steve no comfort. 

"No, you were right." He smiles softly, making Steve cry even more.

"I know what I did Steve. And... I know..., I'm not gonna pretend like the past few weeks didn't happen. But I want you to know that I really liked spending time with you. It was... fun."

A bright flash of panic crosses Steve's pretty face and he grabs Billy's shirt, wringing his pale fingers in the material. 

"No- what? Wait- what're you saying?" The boy sobs and Billy gently extricates Steve's hold on him, squeezing the smaller hands reassuringly before letting go. His heart is fucking hammering in his chest hard but he doesn't listen to it.

"I won't come in between you and your friends Steve. Or your family." 

"What?" Steve gasps out, his sad brown eyes tearing a new fucking rip in Billy's body, leaving him wide open. On the outside, he's a mask of no emotion. 

"You heard me." Billy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose because Steve looks absolutely gutted right now, sobbing his eyes out, standing in front of him with his hands in his hair. 

"Please Billy- I didn't mean it." Steve chokes out, reaching out for him again, hands pulling at Billy's shoulders. He tries to kiss the other boy but Billy shoves him off. 

"Don't do this." Billy murmurs softly but Steve can hear the underlying warning and he frowns tearfully at the ceiling, shaking his head in defeat.

"Billy please, _please..._ I'm sorry. Please-" He tries again but Billy just keeps shaking him off. 

"It's okay Steve. You'll be fine." 

"No!" Steve cries out loud but Billy can't stand it anymore. He pushes Steve until his back hits the wall next to the door with a soft thud, holding his hands in his. Steve gazes up at him, thinking that he's going in for a kiss. He even raises his head up to meet Billy halfway. 

But all he feels is a warm gentle kiss on his forehead before Billy drops his hands. 

His eyes are closed but he hears the sound of the door opening... 

the sound of footsteps...

...he flinches hard when it slams shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Elliot Yamin for this chapter....


	15. I Don't Know What I've Done, Or If I Like What I've Become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has always been irrational when it comes to love and relationships. Billy has never felt so much in his life before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bow-chicka-wow-wow... blep.... all of me, loves all of you....

I Don't Know What I've Done, Or If I Like What I've Become 

 

Steve thought he knew true discomfort after being bedridden and forced to rely on the help of others to do the simplest tasks for at least an entire month. 

Turns out he was wrong. 

It turns out, that sitting on the cold, carpeted floor of his room, back against the wall, legs folded under him with the telephone cord wrapped around his wrist was _worse than_ being a vegetable. For four nights straight, Steve sat in the exact spot in his room, curled up by himself in the dark, the phone bill running up high by the minute even though all he heard on the other end was silence. By now, the curled cord marks were imprinted on his pale skin like a raised tattoo; and the carpet had become a shrine for him to worship on every night. 

His mother had been worried for a while but he'd easily convinced her that he was fine otherwise-- just a bit overwhelmed from his big return to Hawkins High. Lately, he'd been convincing her to go back to Chicago, back to the company- not just because he wanted to be left alone. But because he saw how truly miserable she looked at home. He could tell she missed his father and even though John was a douchebag, he knew that nothing would make her change her mind about the man. No amount of cheating could break the Harrington business interest he guessed. 

It was dark in his room. 

Judy was gone- back to Chicago for a month just like she'd promised Steve; and it was almost surreal just how empty the house felt. Normally, Steve would be able to get over the deafening silence in seconds but... this time around, it was harder. He sits in that little, reverent corner of his room, by the nightstand, pink telephone cord tight around his wrist and his middle finger. Silvery moonlight pours through his open windows, bathing him in the incandescent glow. The wind that blows in from outside is icy and it slices harshly at his exposed skin; he's in an oversized grey t-shirt with a faded and peeling _California West Coast_ printed in dark green collegiate font. His skin prickles at the chill but he doesn't move. 

Doesn't dare move. 

_"Baby... we can't keep doing this."_

It makes him sick that his heart soars with so much joy at the stupid term of endearment. He knows it's just an overused statement of sentiment that people use when they've run out of words for describing the ones they loved. But he can't help it. A single tear slips down his cheek as he holds the receiver to his ear, head against the wall trying to keep himself up. Because it's 10:46PM and he hasn't slept all day. Because he hasn't slept all week. 

Sleep doesn't come easy these days. 

He sniffles but doesn't reply, eyes closed- just taking in the soft and slow breathing on the other end. He can't find the right words to say so he doesn't say anything at all. Too afraid he'll start sobbing and screaming... working up himself into a useless frenzy that would only make the person on the other end hang up. It's happened twice before, so he's gotta be careful now. 

_"You know I hate hearing you cry, princess."_

Billy sounds just as torn up as he feels but somehow that doesn't make him feel better. Because in all of the hours he'd sat on that floor with his emotions practically spewing out from him, this was the most Billy had ever spoken. Like a latch that had just broken and now all he _could_ do was say something. Silence was no longer an option. And Steve... Steve clung on to every word like a dying cat on its last life. Things had gone from wanting Billy to just come back to him; to just wanting the boy to talk to him. To tell him if any of it was actually real. Or was Billy just playing him like every other person before. 

"If you hated hearing it, you wouldn'tve left me like you did." He whispers with a soft bitterness that he hides under a quiet sob. He tries not to whimper, holding the receiver away from his face to wipe at the tears. 

_"Why can't you understand that I did this for you?_ Billy sighs tiredly, his soft breaths crackling on the line. 

Steve wants to be there with him. In his bed, under the blankets with his head on his chest and Billy's strong arms around him, holding him tight. He doesn't want to feel anything right now. Just needs Billy... needs sleep. 

"I need you." He whimpers and he hates how weak he sounds. But he's tired. Fuck, he's exhausted. He can't take much more of this. His entire being is shaking with anxiety and his nerves are shot. His eyes are either too sore from being open for hours or they burn beacsue of all the tears. His headaches haven't subsided since _that day_ and all his nights have been spent on the floor. 

Billy let's out a small but tortured whine and it breaks Steve's heart. 

_"I wish... -God, baby you don't know how much I want to hold you right now..."_ He reveals in a low and raspy voice. He sounds like he hasn't gotten much sleep either. 

"Then just hold me. Come right now, and I'll wait here. I'll be here, for you... please Billy. Please?" He begs, his voice nothing more than a whining sob. He can't feel the waterfall of tears that slip down his face because it's already wet from crying all night. But those tears are there. And they drip down his face and onto Billy's t-shirt that hangs off his frail body like a ghastly remnant of an embrace. It's a cheap consolation for the actual thing... Because Billy's arms are much warmer than the material, and his body always feels tight and compact against Steve's. 

_God, he misses what that feels like._

 

..................

 

The night passes in a drunken haze of emotion and numbness that made the room spin for a bit until his eyes close. He's on his bed, with the phone hung up on the space beside him; that soft, beautiful voice now just a memory. The sunlight that beams into his room from the window to the side attacks his eyes and he has to keep closing them for his sight to adjust. There's an empty beer bottle under his leg and he kicks it away from him, revelling in the thud as it falls to the carpet below. 

Suddenly there's a sharp knock on his door and he startles, almost falling off the bed himself. 

"You've got twenty minutes to get ready for school boy! Hurry up!" 

Neil's voice grates on his ears and he cringes hard, stumbling off his bed and rushing into the shower. Crap, he'd gotten so fucking wasted last night. That's how all of his nights have been lately; school, home, beers, phone. 

Steve...

Jesus, no matter how hard he'd tried he just couldn't quit the boy completely. He was stupid for answering the phone when he knew exactly who was on the other end. Sometimes they'd be on the line for hours without ever speaking a word. He'd hear soft sniffles from Steve and his own lips would sometimes betray him when the silence became too much. And he'd let it slip how he still thought Steve was the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen. And that he hated when the other boy cried... that just kills him every time. 

Last night had been the first time they'd actually had a semi-conversation. He'd convinced himself that he was going to be firm and straight with Steve, to make sure that the boy knew that they couldn't keep doing this every night. But then his boy had whimpered _I need you,_ and... that killed him to say the least. Steve was worse than cocaine or meth. He wasn't just addicting he was a very _real_ manifestation of everything Billy had ever wanted yet couldn't have. 

And that kind of desire didn't just torture a person... 

No. 

It fucking destroyed them. 

 

...................

 

Nancy sighed as she shoved three books into her locker. Cancelled classes were her worst nightmare. What the hell was she supposed to do in two free periods? Especially considering Jonathan wasn't at school today. So it wasn't like they could make out in the janitor's closet or something. She could always go home... and call him. 

A low whistle broke her out of her rambling thoughts and she quickly looked up. Turns out everyone was looking in the same direction, down the hall with their brows raised in what seemed like pleasant surprise. Following their hungry gazes she saw none other than Steve, trotting prettily down the hall in a high-waisted jean shorts that cut him just right on the thighs, his long legs smooth like caramel. He had on his favorite pair of white Nikes with the dark blue checks and white, knee high socks with two black stripes at the top. He had on a dark blue t-shirt that looked about two sizes too big for him and covered most of the jeans. But the things that caught Nancy's eyes was the _California Bay_ printed in large blocky letters at the front of the shirt. 

She'd been with him for over a year and she had never seen that shirt before. It wasn't a far stretch to guess who that shirt belonged to. Billy Hargrove was the only California native going to their school. Her skin crawled at the idea of Steve being _that_ intimate with Billy... wearing his clothes and looking... almost gorgeous in it. Even his hair looked perfectly styled and extra shiny as it flowed all graceful and wispy in his face. Jesus, he had on his Ray Bans to top it all off. His dark green one strap hung off his shoulder, three books in his arms as he passed her. 

Crap-

"Steve- Steve! Hey, hold up." She called, hastily rushing after him. He stopped and took off his shades. 

"Hey." 

He offered her slight smile but looked otherwise sad. They haven't spoken since the party. Steve had been avoiding her all week and he hasn't showed up yesterday. Admittedly she was worried about him but figured he needed his space after what had gone down with Billy. But, ...she had to confront him after seeing him dressed like.... like that. 

 

"Wh- ...what's going on with you?" She asks, trying to sound like a concerned friend and not a skeptical person. Steve fixes her with a proper frown before shaking his head. 

"Nothing's wrong with me Nancy. I'm fine." He mutters, walking steadily, Nancy in his peripheral like an annoying mosquito. He's pissed at her. In fact, he's pissed at her and the rest of them. He'd listened to them and because of that, he'd lost Billy. He'd lost the one person who really cared about him. Well- that actually wasn't fair because he knew they'd just wanted to protect him from getting hurt again. But, they didn't know how much Billy had changed. They didn't listen and now Billy was out of the picture. 

Gone. Just like that. 

"Steve... don't get me wrong, okay- I mean you look... _hot;_ but, what's all this for? Are you okay?" Nancy chokes out nervously. Steve revels in her discomfort for a minute before shrugging. 

"It's nothing Nance. I'm fine." He replies honestly, knowing full well that he'd slutted-up himself to get Billy's attention today. 

"But-" Nancy starts but he stops her with a hand on her shoulder. 

"I should've told you this when we broke up, but, you don't have to concern yourself with everything I do Nance. I know what I'm doing."

"You're doing this for him aren't you?" 

"Nope."

"Steve- look, he hurt you. You've got to understand why-" 

"You don't know him. He's changed a lot and yeah, he's the one who beat my ass in the first place but you know what? He's apologised..." 

He seriously wants to cry all over again. 

"If you really believe that he's sorry Steve then I'd leave it alone but I can see it in your eyes- you're still afraid of him." 

_Dammit._

He shakes his head and sighs. She's got him on that one and he knows it. He's not afraid of Billy anymore. That much is true. But he still carries some reservations about the boy, especially with the suspicious bruises he always seems to sport every other day. Billy had anger issues and that kind of thing didn't just go away overnight. He needed to be careful. He knew that. But that wasn't Nancy's call to make. She and the rest of them needed to stay out of his business. He told her that much and ends up regretting sounding so harsh as tears start to mist in her big blue eyes. 

"We're just worried for you. Max is still afraid of him and Lucas too. Even if he doesn't act like it." She sniffs, and he has to hug her reassuringly before she bursts out into tears. 

"I know you are. And I appreciate it. I do. But I'm begging you to give him a chance." He murmurs into her hair. He sounds heartbroken, like he's been grieving and she doesn't miss it. Billy really does mean a lot to him. 

"That's not for me to do." She sighs, hugging him back just as tight. 

"At least not yet. You need to talk to Lucas and Max about this." 

He nods slowly, his body tingling at the familiar feeling of having her in his arms. The significance of the feeling has lost its appeal but he finds a new sort of comfort in her touch. They're not together anymore, but the feeling of familiarity is oddly grounding. And he really appreciates her in that moment. 

"I will." He promises, feeling a little lighter. 

 

.................

 

Billy should've fucking _known_ that Steve wouldn'tve made this separation easy on him. Should've fucking known it! From the minute he'd entered the doors of Hawkins High, it was business as usual. Step one; ignore Steve Harrington. And step two; avoid the boy at all costs. But then the sneaky brunette had shown up in _that_ sexy as fuck outfit, pretty, smooth legs on display for _everyone_ to see, in _his_ California tee, looking like an edible little crumpet. Made Billy hot and bothered all day, sitting- no, squirming in class because his jeans had gotten too tight at the front. 

It didn't take him long to catch Steve in the old chemistry lab the had been deserted for years, sitting pretty on a teacher's dusty desk, with Jake, from the football team standing between his gorgeous spread legs. They were kissing, Jake's heated grunts accented by Steve's pretty wispy gasps and moans. Billy felt his heart shatter in his chest before becoming incensed and stepping into the abandoned room. 

"The fuck's going on here?" He growls and Jake startles away from Steve, leaving the boy spread out in the table, the bulge noticeable in those slutty shorts. Steve gazes at him, his lips swollen and bitten red. His pretty brown doe-eyes are glassy as he holds Billy's death glare. Jake looks as if he wants to stay and fight but Steve quickly rushes between them, hands pushing against Billy's chest. 

"You should go Jake." He murmurs softly, eyes never leaving Billy's face and Billy's eyes never leaving Jake's. Eventually they hear hurried footsteps and then silence. Billy glances down at Steve, his eyes steely and cold. Steve hangs off of him like a whore, pressing kitten kisses to his corded neck. His arms are wrapped tightly around Billy's neck, and he's got a devilish grin on his face. Billy's not fucking amused. 

He shoves Steve off of him and paces as the brunette sits back down on the desk. 

"Finally got your attention and all it took was me whoring myself out to the star quarterback." Steve sighs sadly, his hair falling into his dark eyes. 

"What the fuck Steve?" Billy snaps, hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"That all you got to say?" Steve pushes, well aware that he's making Billy angrier by the minute. He slides back down from the table and stalks up to the blonde boy whose back is turned to him. He slides his hands over the tense shoulders, massaging the muscles there. Billy's wound tight and he could blow a gasket and pummel Steve to death right now. But Steve isn't scared. Not anymore. He's tired and he's desperate.

"Look at me!" He yells and Billy rounds on him lightening fast, smacking his hands away. Steve gasps at the initial shock and backs away slightly. Billy's eyes widen for a minute and he drops his clenched fists to his sides. His head is bent low but Steve hears the unmistakable sound of sniffling. Billy's crying quietly and he immediately feels stupid for pulling that stunt with Jake. He cautiously approaches Billy... one hand out, fingers reaching timidly for a grip on the sleeve of the boy's jean jacket. 

"I'm sorry." He whispers, his other hand coming up to caress Billy's cheek. Billy still doesn't respond and that makes Steve panic a little. 

"Baby I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do-"

"So you jump on the first dick you find?" Billy bites out harshly and Steve flinches. 

"Would you have still ignored me if I didn't? Tell me Billy. If you hadn't seen me with Jake, tell me you would've still come after me." He demands through gritted teeth and he hates the tears that spring to his eyes. He thought he'd cried himself out last night. 

"I can't survive on one-sided phone calls anymore." 

All the fight and tension drains steadily out of Billy and finally he puts his hands on Steve's body. Large hands slide up and down Steve's waist, to his ribs, they rub his arms soothingly and then come up to cup the boy's pretty face. He presses a kiss to Steve's nose and then his forehead, Steve purring at the contact. He reaches lower and lower until his hands are in the boy's perky ass, fingers digging into the cheeks before lifting Steve up. 

"Billy-" Steve gasps, wrapping his legs around Billy's waist, feeling Billy walk them back to the desk, resting him on the surface. He raises up for a kiss but Billy holds him by the jaw, stopping his movements. 

"I'm not kissing you on the lips after Jake slobbered all over you." He growls in Steve's ear, biting down hard on the lobe. Steve whines low in his throat and cries out as Billy grips him tightly by the wrists. 

"Please-" He starts to beg but Billy cuts him off with a sharp tug of his arms. 

"Maybe I wasn't clear Steve. I can't be with you. And you can't be with me. Your friends don't trust me, they don't like me and frankly- I don't trust me or like me either." He states strictly, talking down to Steve like he was six years old. Steve sobs as he tries to wring his wrists out of Billy's iron grip. He can't. 

"I don't care! They'll come around- just, please Billy. Baby please don't make me beg again." He cries, butting Billy's chest with his forehead, resting there. Billy lets out a mighty sigh and he concedes to stroking and petting Steve's long chestnut hair soothingly. The strands feel extra sleek and soft today. And his hair smells like vanilla. 

"Tell me you haven't forgotten about that night at the Byers Princess. What would your mom do if she found out the truth?" He mutters quietly. 

Steve freezes in his arms and glances up at him, blinking slowly. 

"That's what this is about? Bill- I've already forgiven you for that. I should've told you sooner-" 

Billy shakes his head.

"Maybe you have. But I haven't." 

Steve's world just crumples before him and he sobs hard into Billy's shirt. He feels completely hopeless because- what can he do? He knows how headstrong Billy is and if he hasn't forgiven himself then that means that there's no chance in hell he'd ever think of coming into Steve's life again. What's worse is that Nancy and the kid's fear of Billy just confirms the boy's reservations. 

"I can't hurt you again Steve. I won't. _Please don't make this harder than it already is."_

Steve can't breathe. He can't move. And he can't think. The sound of blood rushing in his veins is too loud. He can't pin Billy down again. Can't get his attention like this anymore. Billy can't forgive himself and it's all because of Steve. Billy doesn't want to stay; just wants to leave Steve like everyone else in his life. Walk out and never say goodbye. Walk out and leave him crying and broken on the floor. 

_"Is it really that easy to walk away from me? Again?"_ He chokes out, feeling sick to his stomach as Billy starts retreating. The boy pauses, but doesn't turn around. Steve's standing behind him, hands clenched into fists, his entire body vibrating with hurt. He growls and shoves at Billy's back hard. Billy stumbles forward and turns to glare at him. His blue eyes are wet with unshed tears. 

_He still doesn't say anything._

"Then go! Leave! That's what you do best!" Steve screams in his face, fists pummeling weakly into Billy's chest, shoving him back with a deliberate force. 

Walking away while Steve wailed at him was probably the hardest thing he's ever had to do. 

But he does it anyway. 

Steve deserved more than some guy who beat him within an inch of his life. He might not see it that way now...

....but later on down the road, Steve would thank him for walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed....i blame John Legend for this chapo.....


	16. Only When I Start To Think About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy's fixing old wounds... Steve's creating new ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this while watching Cars ...... ideas in a good mood.... idk....

Only When I Start To Think About It 

 

The blank canvas stood before him, high and mighty in contrast to his slouching shoulders. Steely blue eyes glinted harshly at it, brows furrowed in annoyance. His hands were clenched at his sides as he glanced now and then at the silver bucket of brushes, as if psychokinetically willing the media to move itself onto the blank space. Willing the portrait to paint itself. He was angry and irritated and anyone that came up to him fell at the mercy of his wrath. Even Mrs Chaser steered clear of him for the entirety of the class. Two whole hours and there was still a blank canvas in front of him. Now he was alone. And inspiration still hasn't hit. 

On it, he could picture the forest, with its darkness and the trembling trees that sprung branches that looked more like the claws of an old witch. He imagined the moon, hanging above like a giant silver orb in the velvet sky. Or the part of Hawkins that became too dark and creepy at night... where the Byers lived. He could even imagine the beach... bright buttery sun shining diamonds across the blue green water, imprinting in his retinas and making his heart soar. He could picture the birds cawing softly overhead, soaring in the sky like small, fluffy angels. But nothing came to fruition on the page. 

Because all he could think about, was Steve's beautiful face, scrunched up in agony as he watched Billy walk away. He could see the tears and hear the completely devastated tone in Steve's voice as he screamed at him. And that kind of pain we something he didn't want to put on his canvas for everyone to see. It felt way too personal. Too raw. An opened wound that revealed pure white bone and veins. The blood wasn't the scariest part of it. No. The bone was. His chest constricts so suddenly that he can't help the tearful shudder that rips through him and he has to brace both hands on the desk near him to keep from collapsing to the floor in agony. 

_Steve._

That was the only thing on his mind as he picks up the biggest brush in the pail. It's a 24. He dips it into the angriest red colour on his palette and wields the brush like a weapon. The shade is more attitude than texture and carries with it an underlying tone of harsh orange. It's a bright blood red- like the kind of blood that pulses out of someone that's just been in an accident and is bleeding out on the floor. He doesn't dilute it with water like he's supposed to- just wants the red colour to stand out as much as possible. He's _incensed..._ and he just wants to rip the canvas in half. But he can't. So he sniffles as an annoying wetness springs to his eyes, and doesn't look- just strikes the brush across the smooth surface. 

It makes a bright red slanted stripe on the page that doesn't look very artistic at first. But when it's coupled with a few more spiteful, hateful and mean strokes, it almost seems to form an imaginative abstract image. An image that seems like he actually thought about it before he took brush to canvas. Somehow the makes him more mad so he grabs some dark blue acrylics- haze, ocean chip, velvet indigo and blue bottle- and dispenses some of them on his palette before sticking his hands into the colours and slapping them angrily onto the page. They smudge and mix and _ruin_ the red strokes he'd put there earlier, diffusing the colours haphazardly, making purple smudges instead. It's an amateur mess but he doesn't care. Chaser said that abstract emotionalism didn't involve too much thinking- or no thinking at all. 

Well, this was him. An angry, muddled mess on a clean white slate that was supposed to be this town- Hawkins. Moving here was supposed to be his second chance. His once over to really fix himself and the person he was becoming- which was Neil. He never wanted that to happen, but things were spiralling out of control so fast. He'd fucked up with Steve the minute he saw the pretty boy at Tina's party. That night at the Byers wasn't even _half_ of it. He's sniffing a lot now, wiping at his face, paint smudging on his cheek but he doesn't seem to notice. The tears are too much and his painting becomes blurry. He's grunting out harshly with every stroke across the ruined canvas. To anyone else, it would look like Billy was actively trying to strangle the paper. 

And maybe he was. 

Because he saw himself in the painting. 

 

....................

 

The windows are drawn, the doors are all locked, the lights are all off and there's not a sound in the Harrington residence. There hasn't been any signs of life there since Thursday. Today is Tuesday but the alarming fact doesn't occur to Steve Harrington. Because he's been dead to the world ever since that day. His mattress has a sink in it from his body lying immobile there, not moving an inch. His tears have dried up for a while now, but there's water stain on his pillow from them. His body, every nerve, every artery, his pulse- everything throbs and aches with pain and protest but he refuses to get up. Can't move to do anything except breathe. And even that's been shallower than a shoreline. 

He's naked- _stark naked_ in bed, under the covers, his starving body frail and weak with hunger, thirst and grief. His hair has gone haywire without much attention and product for six days, and all he ever gets up to do is shower, use the toilet, brush his teeth and throw up and maybe drink some water if he feels like it. He doesn't eat or do his homework or call his parents to check in with them although the phone's been ringing off the hook for _days._ It's hard to talk to anyone right now and he doesn't have the energy to pretend he's okay. He's exhausted and his body is drained and his head hurts and he just wants to die. 

He tries his damnest not to think of the blue eyed boy but fails spectacularly. Billy is _all_ he can think about. His stupid face and his stupid grin and those stupid beautiful eyes and that low, raspy tone in his voice. And then he recalls their fights and everything just deteriorates from there. Steve starts back crying even though nothing more than a single tear falls. He just keeps remembering the look of pure disgust and disappointment on Billy's face as he walked away from him. His chest becomes constricted and his headache kicks up to a 150. It's too much and he can't breathe. He has to shove the pillow from under him to get a fucking grip. 

_"No..."_ He sobs out brokenly before kicking off the blanket and stumbling to the bathroom. The cold air around him attacks his warmed body and he spasms before dropping to his knees at the toilet, throwing up into the ceramic bowl. It's nothing but bile since he hasn't eaten in days and the yellow acid burns in his throat before he expels it. He stumbles to the sink and rinses out his mouth, glaring at himself in the mirror. Dark wet eyes glare back at him, swollen and red-rimmed, full of pain and hurt yet still so empty. His cheeks are sunken in and his face looks bony with bitten red lips. Dark oily hair flops onto his pale forehead like rusty strings, looking dead and dried out. His skin is pallid and looks devoid of any kind of blood or life. Jesus he looks like a corpse. 

He turns away from his reflection with a soft whine and turns on the water for the bath. It's freezing but he doesn't care. He fills the tub to the brim and reaches for the vanilla salts. His shaking grip on the bottle slips and the glass shatters as it hits the edge of the tub, glistening shards falling into the water along with the salts. Steve just swallows as he looks down at the disaster, emotionless. He blinks his fevered eyes a couple of times before sliding into the dangerous water anyway- small prickles of glass cutting into his skin. He doesn't feel a thing though. His entire body is numb. 

Right then, he guesses that Nancy _was_ right. 

He hears it in his head. 

_You're bullshit, Steve Harrington._

It shouldn'tve come as a surprise to him that Billy felt the same way. 

 

....................

 

When Billy pulled up to Hawkins Middle school at 3PM to pick up Max, he didn't expect to see four other dweebs with her staring expectantly at him. Actually, they looked pretty sheepish, standing there awkwardly with their hands in their pockets behind Max. He frowned heavily at her as she poked her head through the window of the Camaro. She's glaring slightly at him but otherwise looks sheepish and nervous like the rest of them. Like she's afraid or something. 

He can't exactly blame her but whatever.

"The hell's going on Max?" He grouses, eyeing the kids guardedly. The Henderson kid freaks him out so he quickly averts his eyes in favour of glaring at Max. 

"Look-- I know this is totally short notice but- well, my friends need a ride home." She blurts out, pursing her lips and giving him a pointed look. He raises a brow.

"Why the hell can't they get their own? I've got to get us home by three-fifteen." 

Max sighs exasperatedly and blushes a bit. 

"Billy c'mon! Don't embarrass me more than you already have!" She hisses at him and it's so comical he snorts out a genuine chuckle of amusement. The mere thought of Maxine not wanting to be embarrassed in front of her nerd friends is _precious._

"Aren't their parents supposed to do that?" He snarks lightly, just to be a pain in the ass. Max rolls her eyes maniacally and puts on the fakest smile he's ever seen. 

_"Please Billy._ I'll give you my allowance for the week!" She begs and Billy positively glows with glee. He holds out his hand coolly. 

"Hand it over now. And I'll take the dipshits home." 

She hesitates for just a second, her mouth parted slightly in unimpressed disbelief at his abject lack of dignity. It feels almost like the normal sibling banter between Lucas and Erica for a minute and Max feels her chest flutter a bit at the _light_ feeling. Then she digs into her bag, takes out a stash of bills and hands it over. The boys begin to protest in the back but all shut up when Billy narrows his eyes at them.

"Alright get in losers." He orders grumpily, setting up his face into a stern expression as they all file in quietly, Lucas entering last. Billy was pretty sure that had been so Sinclair would be the furthest from him and that makes him feel uncomfortably terrible. Sighing, he shifts the car into gears and pulls out of the parking lot. 

***

Five minutes haven't even passed and they're all already bickering. Their squeaky, prepubescent voices grate against Billy's ears as he exhales slowly, trying to keep his calm. It's hard to do so when the kid with the lisp is arguing _X-men_ with the kid with the pale face, dark hair and annoyingly high-pitched voice. Mike or something.... And then the noise only escalates when Byers' little brother pitches in with a quiet "I think Wolverine is way better than Cyclops." Max is also arguing- she's on Scott's side because apparently he's way hotter than Logan and he's perfect for Jean. 

"That doesn't say _anything._ Wolverine could kill Cyclops with his claws in-" Dustin cries as if he'd gone through some injustice. 

"Yeah but he can't get anywhere _near_ Cyclops when he takes off his visors. Scott'll blast Logan away with one glare!" Mike states defiantly, Max voicing her agreement. 

Billy notices that Lucas hasn't said a word yet and has instead occupied himself with looking out the window. He's carefully avoiding Billy's eyes but is still aware of his proximity to the older boy and that kind of _fear_ is something that Billy identifies with. He'd always felt regret for pressing Sinclair at the Byers that night. But in that moment he feels terrible for what he'd done because he _sees_ himself in Lucas. He sees a much younger Billy cowering away from Neil and it makes him sick. His hand slips a bit on the wheel and he has to shake his head to clear his thoughts. 

"Wolverine would kill Cyclops in a battle." He blurts out, keeping his eyes forward, pointedly ignoring the immediate silence his voice commands. 

Then the arguments just explodes from there.

Dustin's totally impressed, Max is shooting him a weird slash pissed off glance and Mike and Will just look shocked. 

"Wow, never thought I'd say this but... Billy's totally right Mike." Dustin grins before turning his attention to Billy.

"What the hell do you know about X-Men anyway?" 

Lucas hisses at the boy with a narrowed glance before quickly looking out the window again. They all go silent and things quickly become awkward as they all stare at him expectantly. Billy clears his throat nervously and shrugs. 

"Everyone knows Logan's regenerative abilities trump Scott's laser eyes." He mutters defensively. 

Mike scoffs, shaking his head.

"Unbelievable. No wait- that's actually totally believable." He snorts obnoxiously and Billy frowns.

"Why?" 

"Because he's a brute? And you're a brute too? S'not that hard.." The young Wheeler mumbles earning death stares from all of his friends. Max's mouth is agape as she stares dumbly from Mike to Billy. Dustin looks right about ready to crap his pants, Will is squirming uncomfortably in between them and Lucas is staring harder out the window. Billy isn't mad though and he wishes they didn't look so scared. Even Mike looks like he regrets saying anything at all. 

The Camaro comes to a slow stop in front of the Wheelers' place and Mike is already reaching for the door. He's stopped by a curt, "Wait-" from Billy. 

"I'm sorr-" The boy starts but Billy just shakes his head. 

"Look," he sighs tiredly. This moment was a long time coming but the timing never seemed right. Now it did. 

"I'm sorry, okay? I was a total dick for almost running you guys over and... for that night at... at the house. You- ...you didn't deserve that." 

The kids all look at him like he's grown an extra head and Max is especially confused and shocked. They sit in a charged silence for a while, Dustin glancing at Lucas and Lucas not knowing what to say. Billy tenses hard and he starts fiddling with the stupid keychain hanging from the bunch in the ignition. Then Mike clears his throat.

"Thanks... I guess, for the apology Hargrove."

"Yeah..." Dustin adds uncertainly, still eyeing Billy weirdly in the rear-view mirror. Will simply nods his head but Lucas and Max remain silent. Mike quickly tumbles out of the car and runs to his house without looking back. The car remains silent for another ten minutes before Billy drops off Dustin, the curly haired boy leaving with a brief, "Thanks for the ride." to both Billy and Max. He drives to Will's house after that and after the boy waves goodbye, Max fixes Billy with a hard stare. 

"Lucas's house was before Will's. Billy if you're gonna do anything to-" She starts with a scathing growl but Billy revs up the engine and makes his way to the Sinclair residence. Lucas grabs the door as soon as the car comes to a halt but Billy locks the doors. 

"Billy-" Max yells but he shakes his head.

"Lucas wait!"

"Why?" The boy cries trying to smash the glass. 

"Will you just wait?! _I'm trying to apologize here!"_ Billy grouses, running a frustrated hand through his hair. 

"What?" Lucas and Max exclaim in unison, both completely freaked out. 

Billy sighs, fingers tapping out nervously on the leather of the wheel. 

"You already apologized." Lucas mutters, hand still gripping the handle tight. 

"No, that was a _general_ apology." The older boy grumbles petulantly, shaking his head. Max stays silent but she's got hawk eyes on their exchange. Lucas slowly loosens his grip on the door and folds his arms.

"I'm listening." 

Billy rolls his eyes but nods anyway.

"I- ... I shouldn'tve attacked you like that." 

_Good start._

"...It was wrong and... totally racist... And I- I wish I could say that it wasn't all me but- it was."

 _Getting real close to talking about Neil there Hargrove!_

"You got the worst of it... and you didn't deserve it. And I'm sorry." 

Lucas lets out a sigh of what sounds like relief or exhaustion- Billy's not sure which. But he feels his stomach clench uneasily as he waits for the berating he's sure to get. His apologies have always ended with a punch or awkward silence like earlier. He can't blame the boy if he doesn't forgive him. He deserves the coldness he's getting right now. He hears the car door open with a slow click and his chest sinks in defeat. 

"Thanks Hargrove." Lucas mutters quietly before he steps out. 

"See you tomorrow Max." 

Both Billy and Max watch the boy start up the pathway to his house.

"Sh- wait! Sinclair!" 

Suddenly Billy catapults out of his seat and out of the car, rushing after Lucas. Max gasps and shoves open her door in a panic. _What the hell was Billy about to do?!_

Lucas freezes and backs up a bit as Billy jogs up to him. He pulls up Lucas's hand and places a wad of cash in it, closing the boy's hand around the money.

"Her birthday's next week. She likes skateboarding stuff and action movies." He reveals in a low voice, looking back at Max who is hanging off the door frowning at them curiously. Lucas blinks up at him with a slowly forming grin on his face, his brow way up in his hairline. It's small and barely noticeable but Lucas doesn't look so scared anymore and Billy takes it as a win. 

"Wait- didn't you just exploit this money out of Max in exchange for giving us a ride?" The boy accuses with an unimpressed eyebrow-raise. Billy's face drops for a minute but then he scoffs and grins lightly. 

"Don't worry, I'll give it back." 

Lucas shakes his head and then nods. 

"Thanks Billy." 

Billy shakes his head. "You already said thanks man." 

But then Lucas shakes his head. 

"I mean thanks for apologizing. You're the first one to say you're sorry for picking on the _black kid._ "

Billy doesn't know what to think for the rest of the ride home. 

...............

"What was that about?" Max mutters, not looking at him as he pulls onto their street. Billy sighs, hanging his elbow out the window with a lit cigarette in hand. He needed it after that whole sorry-fest earlier. And for whatever was to come when they got home. It was already 3:31PM- a whole fifteen minutes later than when he was supposed to bring Max home. Susan was probably panicking as usual and Neil... well he could already imagine the pissed off look on his father's face. 

"Just thought it was the right thing to do." He sighs lowly, inhaling a healthy amount of smoke. Max snorts softly and smiles to herself.

"Well, it's definitely something. I thought you were never gonna apologize." She reveals with an air of caution. He nods, thick white smoke billowing from between his lips. 

"I needed time... I'm sorry it took so long. I'm sorry Max." 

She shakes her head, playing it off like the Hargrove she is.

"It's cool." 

"No, Max... I've been treating you the worst out of everyone and... I wish I was a better brother to you."

Max blinks at him with a shocked look on her face, her lips moving but no words come out of them.

"Jesus- I'm no good at this crap but... if it's worth anything, I think you're pretty cool. I'm the jerk." He adds chuckling a bit as they come up to the Hargrove house. 

"Yeah- you are." Max agrees, nodding slowly as the engine cuts off. Billy shoots her an indulgent grin grabbing his bag from the backseat. She turns to him as they step out of the car, sun glinting in her eyes. 

"But... I dunno. After today, maybe you aren't so bad after all." 

The sunset on her hair sets it afire, looking like a sunrise and Billy doesn't know what it is, but- suddenly he feels...

_Good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys deserved something happy it hopeful at least....


	17. Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries to hide away from the world... and he's failing miserably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew it's been a while folks... I lost my inspiration for writing Harringrove fics a while back but I guess as we're nearing 2019, it's coming back...

Hallelujah 

 

Billy gets into trouble the minute he walks through the door. 

He hears dangerous edge in the undertone of Neil's voice as he orders Max to go to her room, hands on his waist and steel in his eyes. Max hesitates for a minute, looking to Billy as if to ask him if she should stay or go. It's an incredibly sweet gesture and Billy doesn't know how to feel about it. But he nods at her anyway, to go to her room- she doesn't need to hear or see all of this. He doesn't want her to. 

But Max is nothing if not Billy's sister; forget about that whole "step" business. So of course she doesn't listen. 

"We were late because of me." 

The creased and agitated look on Neil's face smoothens out a bit. But he picks it right back up as his eyes shift to glare holes into Billy who is standing at the door, trying hard not to look up. He flinches as Neil takes another few steps forward. 

"Maxine go to your room." He orders again, eyes fixed on Billy. 

"No." 

They both blink in surprise and turn to look at the redhead. Her blue-green eyes are cold and fierce as she stares down Neil, fists clenched at her sides. Her mouth is set in a challenging sneer and her nose scrunches up a bit like a growling wolf. It's almost incredible to see her stand up to Neil in a way that Billy never could. He feels a fleeting envy run through him and quickly as it comes, it goes. He's proud. He feels relief that Max can hold her own. 

"Excuse me?" Neil grunts, not even half as harsh as he usually sounds. He actually sounds confused. It's hilarious and riveting at the same time to watch them both face off. 

Then Billy snaps back to reality. 

"Max it's fine-" He starts. 

"No it's not. We weren't doing anything wrong. _Billy_ wasn't doing anything wrong." She presses, her tone grave and menacing. If Billy knew El, he'd know where Max picked up that tone but he didn't, so for now, he thinks Max is just being a total badass- which she already was. He's just never seen her tilt her forehead like that. 

"Very well, you can go to your rooms." Neil finally grunts, trying hard to mask his shame at being found out by Max. She wasn't supposed to know about Billy's abuse, but, there it was. Billy was sure the man would catch him sooner or later, when Max wasn't home or something and then pummel the crap out of him for telling her. But he didn't. It seemed like Max was way smarter than she looked. He felt a breath of relief leave him as Neil grabbed up his keys and slammed the door on his way out, the sound of a retreating engine engulfing them until there was silence. 

"Thank God he's gone. Jesus that man is _the worst_." Max sighs tiredly, flopping down in the couch in the living room, a bag of chips in hand. Billy stares at her for a minute, brow way up in his hairline and his mouth just slightly agape. She notices him watching and shrugs, offering him some chips.

"What?" 

"N- ...nothing." Billy mutters, slowly digging into the bag of chips as he robotically drops unceremoniously into the space beside her on the couch. He munches quietly for a while, a bit shocked and a bit touched that she'd stood up to his Dad. He's mostly envious that she'd been able to do the one thing he couldn't do for most of his life. It's somewhat humbling. Next to him, he hears her sigh tiredly.

"I'm sorry." 

He blinks a couple of times before frowning hard at her.

"Sor- for what? You kinda saved my ass back there Max. If anything, it should be the other way around." 

But Max shakes her head insistently.

"I'm sorry about the party at Steve's the other night." 

_Oh._

Billy sighs, his shoulders drooping, all remaining tension leaving his body. He's so exhausted from all the recent show of emotions, it's unbearable. Hearing Steve's name now makes his heart ache something awful and he hates that his eyes start to water when he thinks of the beautiful boy. It's terribly torturous, Max bringing up _that night_ when all he'd wanted to do was cry about the whole thing. Steve had even tried apologizing but... Jesus, couldn't _anyone_ see that he wasn't good enough? That he wasn't worth it? That he was just a fucked-up excuse for a human being who had brutalized Steve and then had the gall to try to befriend the boy. It was absurd. 

"I- ... I told Steve to make you go. I... I was scared... I- I'm sorry." Max sniffles and he breaks out of his reverie. 

"You weren't wrong, Max... making him send me away. I was a dick- still am. I deserved it, it's cool. Besides, it's for the best. I'm no good... for him." He tells her as honestly as he can. His voice sounds far away, contemplative. Max studies him for a bit before replying.

"Nah, he said that you've been taking care of him. Can't be that bad. You always take good care of me, even when Neil doesn't ask you to." She murmurs, her face red with embarrassment. They both weren't big on emotions and Billy feels a lightness in his chest at that small thing they had in common. 

"You should go and see him." She suddenly says, crumpling the chip bag in her fist. 

"We haven't heard from him in a few days." 

Billy shakes his head.

"Nah... can't do that..." He chokes out, biting idly at his thumb finger. 

"Why not?" Max inquires and suddenly he remembers how young she really is. She could never understand his reservations when it came to Steve. The boy was _everything_ to him but yet still he could never be with him because he never saw himself as deserving of Steve. He was just another Neil in the factory, about to come out as a broken, damaged and pissed off product that wasn't good enough but still functioned properly if you punched it just right. 

Steve didn't need that kind of instability in his life. 

"He's better off without me." 

The look she sends him is way less than impressed and for a second he pauses to actually consider what she's saying.

"C'mon Billy, there's nothing that _can't_ be fixed. Not even your relationship with Steve-"

"Woah woah, slow down there Romeo. I _was not_ in a relationship with Harrington." He reassures her quickly, scrunching his nose up at her as if she were crazy for even thinking such a thing. His thoughts border on defensive though and even he isn't as delusional to think that what he'd had with Harrington wasn't special. Hell, Steve was the only person to make him feel so strong yet vulnerable, emotional yet completely compact. Steve was the rudder that kept his life going in the right direction and now that he'd lost that, he was directionless. 

_You were the one that let him go._

The thought, though fleeting, hits him right where it hurts the most. But his stubbornness makes him snark, _He's the one that told me to leave._ He sighs heavily, his shoulders burdened with the weight of his fucked up situation. How the hell did things get so bad? Actually, considering the fact that he'd pummeled Steve until he was part vegetable- _that_ had been bad enough. But this... making the very same guy fall for him and then leaving him high and dry... could only be described as worse. 

Max's voice brings him out of his morbid thoughts. 

"So... are you gonna see him? Tonight?" 

His silence embodies his indifference right in that moment. 

 

............................

 

The _tap-tapping_ of raindrops on the open window panes offer a soothing, almost hypnotic musical type of therapy to the inhabitant of the dark, blue room. It wasn't at all surprising that the Harrington residence was eerily quiet at 11:34PM but the fact that there had been extremely minimal movement in the house for the past two days _was._

No wild house parties, no stupid kids drinking copious amounts of alcohol and ruining their livers... _nothing._

Steve had remained completely prone... chained to his bed ever since... that day. It was silly of him to ever believe that he'd get another chance after the shit he'd pulled with Jake. Billy had cut things off- _permanently_ -and that had been a tough pill to swallow. Now as he lies in bed, skin covered in cuts from the broken glass that still sat at the bottom of his bathtub, it's all he can think about. 

Billy, the kids, Jake... _how the hell he'd ended up here?_

A couple months ago, it would've been a crazy notion, to think of himself craving Billy Hargrove's company- his touch... his attention. After all, this was the very same guy who'd beat him into a bloody pulp. He shouldn't be wanting the blue eyed Californian so much that it hurt him to even _think_ about him... but he did.

And it was pathetic. 

A soft sniffle escapes him as he tosses and turns on his bed, sheets stained with cold sweat and misery. His blanket that he'd thrown off is lying on the floor at the foot of his bed, alone and rejected, just like him. Nancy had called a few times over the past few days, asking about his wellbeing and all of that obligatory crap. He'd been as accommodating as ever, easing her concerns just so she wouldn't burden herself with the thought of him being alone and hurt. The kids had called as well but he couldn't bear the thought of lying to them so all of their calls went unanswered. He knew it was probably breaking Dustin's little heart but- ...God, he just _couldn't._

His ear twitches at the sound of a tentative knocking coming from downstairs but his brain dismisses it as his wired imagination. He hasn't eaten or slept in days and little fleeting noises and visions could always be written off as "his mind playing tricks on him." He'd been hearing a lot of knocking on his door these past few days anyway; he was bound to become stir crazy in his solitary confinement. The phone rings and he growls at it, reaching for it before haphazardly tearing it out of the wall. It falls to the floor with a crash, his eyes following the way the pieces scatter in a random pattern. Kinda like how he and Billy had found their way to each other after being scattered beyond repair after the events at the Byers' house. 

Steve rolls his eyes at the dramatic thought but then freezes when he hears the thud of soft footsteps. He's out of the bed and wielding the baseball bat in a matter of seconds, feet planted firmly on the carpet. His body is sore and bruised, and his strength lacks any capacity whatsoever to defend himself but he's alert regardless. 

It could be a demogorgon... or dog... whatever other monster Hawkins had hiding in its depths. Steve still has trouble getting over the PTSD he'd acquired after his run in with those things. Hell, his pool hadn't had a single body in it since Barb. 

_Thud._

His heart rate picks up and his pupils dilate. He's biting softly on his lower lip, making it red with worry. His eyes blur a bit, his coordination still on the mend from Billy's... _attack._ The bat sits heavy and firm in his sweaty hands but he approaches his room door anyway, heart thundering in his chest. His eyes catch a shadow darting across the hall in the light filtering through the space between the floor and his door's panel. The tension is building up now as he reaches his hand out for the doorknob, bat at the ready. He feels as if he's in a Hitchcock motion picture, about to turn into nothing but a mere blood spatter on the walls. 

_Here goes..._

The door swings open with a horrid creak and suddenly there's a blinding white light in his face. He yells, brandishing his bat while the being- ...beings? shriek behind the lights. Steve almost swings the bat until he notices the familiar red, blue and white cap. 

"Dustin?!" 

The torch lights click off almost simultaneously, revealing Dustin, Max, Will, Lucas and Mike. 

Steve groans impatiently, leaning the bat up on the wall behind him before his hands prop up on his waist in that infamous "mom-pose."

"The hell guys? What're you doing in my house at-" He squints at his wristwatch; "12:45 in the morning?" 

"Steve! Thank God! You're okay!" Dustin heaves with a huge relieved sigh, crashing into Steve and resting his head on the teen's chest. The rest of them gather him into a huge group hug, breathing their collective sighs of relief and quietly thanking God that he was okay. He rolls his eyes, trying his best to shake them off but failing. 

"Alright- _alright!_ You little shits better have a damn good reason for being at my house right now or I'm gonna be pissed. Did something happen? Is Jane okay? Is Will okay?" 

"Hey, I'm right here. I'm not _always_ in trouble you know." Will pipes up from his spot against Steve's back. Steve shoots him an apologetic look. 

"Sorry kid."

"Nothing's happened you idiot, we just wanted to make sure you're alive." Mike grumps though he's hugging Steve probably tighter than Dustin is. 

_"Alive?"_ Steve parrots with a unimpressed brow-raise. Dustin chuckles guiltily, both hands up as if he's physically defending himself. 

"No, I think the word Mike meant to say was 'okay'. Yeah, we just had to make sure you were okay." 

Max nods. "It's true. You were ignoring us for more than a week so we thought we'd pay you a visit." 

"A visit? No, a visit happens during the day and it starts with a knock at the front door. _This? This,_ is a break in- how did you even get inside my house?" Steve deadpans, folding his arms authoritatively as they all stand guiltily before him now. 

"Max can pick locks like a pro." Will grins excitedly. 

"That's actually very scary and not very comforting... like at all..." Steve mutters mostly to himself. 

"Were you really gonna whack us with your bat?" Lucas snorts, gesturing to his bat leaned up against the wall. Steve deflates and closes his eyes for a moment, running an idle hand through his hair. 

"No Lucas, I was not going to whack you guys with a bat. I was gonna whack a demogorgon with it." 

"We're not demogorgons Steve." Dustin supplies ever so helpfully. Steve rolls his eyes. 

"I know that now, dipshit. I _thought_ you guys were demodogs or something." 

Dustin gives him a brilliant smile as they all trudge towards the kitchen. 

"Nope. They're all dead Steve, remember?" Mike replies, racing Will to the fridge. They all gather at the thing as if it's some kind of temple to be worshipped, eyes searching out the unhealthy snacks. 

"Ooh, pizza!"

"Is that wine?" 

"Buffalo wings! They're mine!" 

"Oh my God, ice cream!" 

"I think that's champagne-"

"Guys! Why are you raiding my fridge?" Steve interrupts, clapping his hands to get their attention. They all turn around, staring at him with huge eyes that he finds hard to refuse. His shoulders sag in defeat within half a second and he finds himself actually appreciative of the company he's receiving. It made him realise just how lonely he'd been after Billy's rejection; and just how many people still gave a crap about him. 

"Fine, have at it. But don't blame me when your parents call the cops looking for you in the morning." 

"It's cool Steve, we told them we were having a sleep over at Chief Hopper's." Dustin grins with a pizza slice hanging from his mouth. 

Steve raises a brow. "And he let you use him as an excuse?" 

"He sort of owed Jane a movie-night, just the two of them after skipping one for a case so, she made him go along with our plan and in return, she wouldn't be angry at him. They're watching _The Terminator._ "

"Pretty cool huh?" Max smirks, helping herself to a huge spoonful of chunky, chocolate and peanut ice cream. 

Steve's about to retort that it was actually not very cool when he realises- 

"Hey, won't your brother kill you for sneaking out of the house?" 

Max shrugs nonchalantly and fits herself next to Lucas on his couch, tub of ice cream in her hands. 

"Nope. Mom and Neil are out of town on some retreat and Billy's probably drinking himself to sleep tonight, so..."

Steve blinks at her expectantly, waiting for her to finish her sentence but she just shoves another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. He gives up after a few minutes as they turn on his t.v., some thriller- definitely not for kids- coming on through the speakers loudly. He rolls his eyes, making sure the front door was locked properly before announcing that he was heading upstairs to change into something more slumber-party appropriate. 

No one hears him and it only widens the now forming smile on his face. 

_This felt good._

Two hours later, Steve finds himself amidst the kids, shovelling trash food into his mouth and singing along to Michael Jackson's _Thriller._ It's wild, how much fun he's having and it seems to be improving his mental state with every smile he cracks and every laugh that escapes his lips.

There's a knock at the door and he doesn't even think about it- opening it without a single thought until he sees the person standing on his front porch...

_He freezes at the very moment his smile disappears._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed


	18. Touch Me And Then Turn Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock knock, who's there? Steve finds some solace. He's still confused af though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been busy with work, it's christmas... bah hum and bug...

Touch Me And Then Turn Away 

 

"B- Billy? Wh- what're you doing here?" 

The question is shaky, kinda like the ground Steve is currently standing on- literally and figuratively. The blonde Californian is standing on his doorstep, in tight blue jeans and a white shirt. The blue denim jacket over it just completes the look and Steve can't understand now he went this long without seeing the other boy. It's hard to swallow the lump in his throat but he tries, blinking profusely to dry his watering eyes. Billy says something and it's muffled and inaudible. 

"Sorr- what?" Steve chokes, holding on to the door frame for dear life. He practically has a death grip on the thing. 

"Uh, Max, have you seen her?" Billy repeats and he looks to be struggling just as much. Steve finds _some_ comfort in the fact. 

_Max... Max... the name rings a bel- ...oh._

"Crap, she didn't tell you she was coming here, did she?" 

Billy scoffs but it isn't mean or patronizing. It's almost... _fond._

"Yeah, that little shit is always getting me into trouble."

Steve pales. "Wait Billy- ...y- you can't blame her for th-"

"It's cool, Harrington." Billy reassures, a hand up to stop Steve from panicking. "I was just kidding. Our parents aren't home." 

Steve blinks, inhaling deeply in thought. Now, he felt kinda stupid with how nonchalant Billy was being about everything when he'd been ass-deep in his feelings lately. It was fucked up, but then again, that's the way Billy Hargrove made him feel. His coordination had improved drastically and movement had been exceptionally easier according to Dr Herald but now all of that seemed to be failing him. 

"So..." Billy mutters as if it was supposed to jog his memory or something. Steve was as clueless as ever. 

"So... what?" 

"Max." Billy coughs and Steve almost slaps himself. 

"Oh, right. Come in. She's watching t.v. with the other kids." 

"Slumber party huh?" 

Steve shoots Billy an unimpressed eye-roll before closing his door shut.

"More like an impromptu break-in. They hijacked my fridge and my t.v." 

Billy huffs just as Dustin comes bounding into the hall. "Steve, what the hell are you- ...oh... hey Billy." 

A look of pure confusion crosses Steve's face at the exchange and he fixes Dustin with an exasperated look. _Did he miss something? Something big... where Dustin spoke to Billy in a tone that was almost... friendly?_

"I'm s- ...I'm sorry, what?" He splutters despite himself, and despite the fact that Billy was standing right there next to him. Dustin shoots him a sheepish look before shrugging innocently.

"Ha... uh... hey guys! Hargrove's here!" He bellows with a nervous little chuckle. The others come bounding into the hallway, panting hard with curious looks on their owlish eyes. Steve fixes them all with a perfectly raised brow. Max actually looks pleased to see her brother and Steve can't place why Lucas doesn't look so scared of Billy anymore. 

"Hey Billy." Will greets politely while Lucas and Mike wave awkwardly. 

"So you decided to come out into the night anyway?" Max grins at her brother who surprisingly doesn't look pissed off as hell. He actually looks... sheepish. This was all very, _very_ weird for Steve who'd checked out of reality a few days ago- when the kids were still more afraid of Billy than some monster from the other side and Max really wanted to nail him in the nuts with a baseball bat. So, when did things suddenly change where Hargrove became, "Hey Billy," to them?

"Yeah, you little shit. Thanks for telling me you snuck out." Billy shoots back cockily. 

"Geez, clingy much?" Lucas snorts good naturedly and it actually makes Billy laugh. 

"Yeah, you gotta let the bird fly away from the nest some times Hargrove." Dustin teases cheekily as they all rush back to the living room. Max remains, standing between them, looking on with bright green eyes. It's almost as if she knew this was going to happen before it did. 

"So, you guys are fr- friends now?" Steve asks nonchalantly but there's a hidden trepidation in his voice. Max grins at him and she actually looks, happy. Billy coughs awkwardly though. 

"Uh... I guess...?" Billy answers dumbly and Max resists the urge to roll her eyes. 

"Well, this is such an odd coincidence. I needed a ride home after this slumber party." 

Billy frowns. "Max-"

"But, not right now since we've just started so, how about you stick around until we're ready bro? Yeah, okay? Later guys." 

She leaves them standing alone in the hallway, awkward silence all around them, the air thick with so many grievances and unanswered questions that Steve almost feels claustrophobic.

He can barely look Billy in the eye, now that the kids were gone, there was nothing to buffer the tension between them. His stomach feels all crampy and he's pretty sure he's cold sweating or something. It's like an out-of-body experience; seeing Hargrove after days- maybe weeks of the boy avoiding him like the plague. He feels like sum beneath Billy's boots and it's hard not to break down right there and then. So he doesn't give Billy a hopeful look, doesn't even make eye contact, just stands there, leaning against the wall quietly, arms folded. He feels awkward and exposed in his white t-shirt and red cotton pj's, biting at his lip until it starts to legit hurt. 

"I'm- I should wait in my car." Billy mutters robotically, hating the way his blue eyes rake possessively over Steve's body. He takes in the short red pj's, the soft white t-shirt and the tube socks. His hair is a delectable mess, all fluffy and all over the place. Steve's the epitome of irresistible right now and he fucking hates what that does to him. Steve for his part looks contained and well put together even if Billy suspects he's really not. He barely even gives Billy a nod when he starts backing away towards the door and that ticks in Billy's nerves because he knows there's a lot Steve would like to get off of his chest. 

They're at the door when Billy finally realizes... _fuck it._

He turns around and grabs Steve by the neck, hands in that gorgeous fucking hair and kisses the life out of him. Steve grunts in shock but the sound dies down at the back of his throat as he swallows down another kiss. His arms automatically come up to wrap around Billy's neck, burying his fingers in those golden curls. Their tongues battle for dominance and that's a fight neither wants to win. Billy's teeth clips Steve's lower lip and he fucking growls at how much it turns him on, the way Steve's eyes darken when they pull away from each other momentarily. Brown doe-eyes blink at him in surprise, with innocence and guilt in equal measure. 

Steve wants this. 

_Steve wants him._

"I want you." Billy growls in response and Steve moans as they kiss again, lips working over time to get as much pleasure out of each other as possible. 

 

.....................

 

They make it to Steve's bedroom without much delay, Billy practically jumping Steve's bones as soon as the door slams shut. They're on the bed now, tangled in each other, Steve making the most delicious fucking sounds as Billy bites and sucks marks into his pale neck. His legs are wrapped around Billy's waist, pulling the boy closer, their hips grinding against each other. Steve's so fucking hard, he can barely think about what the hell was going on. He feels Billy's hands on his waist and he quickly reaches to tug off his t-shirt. Billy helps him, tossing the damn thing behind him like he doesn't give a crap, lips on his again. It's the very same bad boy, doesn't give a damn attitude that pisses Steve off and turns him on at the same fucking time and it's fucking hot. 

"Take it off." Steve whispers breathlessly, pulling at Billy's stupid, annoying jacket while simultaneously grinding his hips up against the hard bulge in Billy's jeans. 

"Take it off now!" He growls when the blonde doesn't move fast enough. He wants so badly to snap at the other boy, for everything he put him through but he's much too turned on to do anything else but moan. Billy just grins through the kiss, slipping off his jacket and flinging it into the darkness of Steve's room. It lands on the dresser before falling off and dragging bottles and papers off the damn thing. They crash to the floor hard but neither of them pay them any mind. Steve moans when Billy bites at his collarbone, gripping at the hem of his white t-shirt. He wants it off, right fucking now. 

"Jesus Christ Harrington." Billy murmurs whilst stripping, shivering at Steve's hands on his bare skin. His fingers are cold as they run across his heated torso, just touching and feeling as if to make sure Billy was real. They pause just long enough to make a second feel like a lifetime and Billy can feel the emotions welling up from deep within him... intimate and terrifying. He dips lower until his lips press gently onto Steve's and they kiss as if they'd never done it before. This time it feels new and the tiny moan that dies in Steve's throat makes him unbelievably hard. 

_"I want you."_ Steve cries and Billy can't find it within himself to deny the boy. 

"Hold on baby, I'm right here." He breathes, removing Steve's uncoordinated hands from his pj's to replace them with his own sure ones. He grins down at how innocent and sweet Steve suddenly looks as he gazes up at Billy, deep blush staining his cheeks as his pj's slip down his legs and fall somewhere on the floor. He's bare naked now, in front of Billy and there was nothing holding them back from doing this tonight. Billy runs his heated palms against the smooth skin of Steve's outer thighs, from his hips all the way down to his calves. 

"Billy..." Steve whines whilst biting his lips and the blonde boy can't help the gritty growl that comes up from his throat. 

"Right here Steve. Right fucking here baby." 

"I want you-"

"I know, I know-"

"I want you in me..." Steve finishes, a single tear rolling down his face from the corner of his eye, his hands coming up to pull Billy closer against his naked body. Hargrove actually fucking snarls and it doesn't even scare him, it just turns him on. He kisses Steve hard, bruising both their lips for sure before kneeling on either side of Steve's hips. 

"Where's your stuff?"

Steve looks adorably confused for a minute before realization crosses his face and he blushes. "In the bathroom cabinet- last draw on the left." 

Billy tries to leave the bed for a second until Steve's grip on his hand stops him. He chuckles softly before giving the boy a reassuring kiss to the lips and then one on each knuckle until he lets go. 

"I'll be right back." 

It's a task, trying to look fucking cool walking away when all he wants to do is dash to the bathroom, get the lube and condoms and then rush back out to Steve. But he makes it anyway, despite the walk feeling like hours and his jeans low on his waist because it's already unbuckled feels like it's about to make him trip. He makes his way to the white tiled cabinet in Steve's huge freaking bathroom, feeling a bit tipsy and light headed- more like drunk on Steve's kisses- and grabs up a couple condoms and the lube. His heart was fucking wild in his chest and he was quite certain he'd never felt this nervous about sex in his entire life. Hell, all the times he'd fucked those bitches right here in Hawkins and back in California, he'd never even given it a second thought, much less felt this way about the person he was fucking. 

But this was different. 

This was- 

_Glass._

Broken, jagged, shards of glass littering the bottom of Steve's usually pristine white bathtub. Some of them remain crystal clear while other pieces are stained with a rusty sort of residue. It's not a lot but then again, some could've washed down the drain as it wasn't clogged. His blue eyes scrape across the sight, taking in every single, damning detail. The rusty residue seemed to stain the rim of the rub as well, running down its side in eerie lines. And deep inside Billy knew what those rusty stains were but out right, he could never admit it to himself. 

Now he just felt sick. 

 

...................

 

Steve's in heaven, happily writhing around in his bed while he waits impatiently for Billy to come back with the bare necessities they need to finally be together in every way Steve needed them to be. If Billy's heart is beating like a caged bird in his chest, Steve's already had a fucking heart attack. He's nervous as hell, his nerves are wired and his brain is fried. He can't help but panic a little- okay, a lot- at the realization that he and Billy were about to fuck. He couldn't even wrap his mind around the fact that Billy wasn't ignoring him anymore. This past week had been hellish, and he couldn't even measure just how important it was to keep Billy tonight. 

He never wanted to be left alone again. 

He hated being alone... being abandoned. 

Billy's been in there a goddamn while, he thinks distractedly, running a hand through his hair. The door opens mid thought and he blushes in the dark as Billy's silhouette appears in the doorway. As the blonde approaches him, he can feel the wires cross in his brain, his breathing laboured and- 

Billy's staring at him blankly. 

His blue eyes look empty and his face is expressionless. His hands are dropped to his sides as if they weren't working properly and his jaw ticks hard ever so often. His entire stance is coiled, like a cobra ready to strike and Steve feels a cold drop in his stomach. 

"Billy, what's wrong?" 

Billy doesn't say anything though; just keeps taking slow steps towards him, jaw ticking like he's pissed. 

"B- Billy you're scaring me." 

Billy winces at that and Steve's not sure if he's relieved that he got a reaction or not. He gets up on his knees when Billy stops at his bedside, half afraid of the boy but half desperate to feel Billy's hands on him again. He touches the side of the blonde's face, where his jaw ticks again and feels how heated the skin is beneath his fingertips. 

"Talk to me." Steve begs softly, as Billy helps his wrists. The grip becomes harder until Steve has to wince under the pressure but he doesn't complain. He can't lose Billy again. 

"The glass..." Is all Billy says and for a moment, Steve pleads ignorance. The words vaguely remind him of an event that happened a long, long time ago but he closed his mind off to that experience. 

When he remains silent, curious, Billy shakes him hard. "The glass! What happened to the glass?" 

Steve goes rigid in Billy's grasp and he breaks eye contact. He can't look Billy in the face and so he starts squirming out of Billy's hold. _Fuck!_ He'd started using the shower stall after a while, not being able to look at the evidence of what he'd done in the bathtub for fear of throwing up. After the glass had broken, he'd gotten into the tub of water, much too paralyzed with emotion to feel any of the shards sticking into his skin. When he got out of the water, it had been tinged with a pinkish red hue, his own blood trickling down his legs in watery lines. It had taken him days to get the splinters out. 

He'd forgotten to erase the evidence. 

_Fuck._

"I- ...I don't- ..." 

But he can't finish that sentence, because Billy was never supposed to see that goddamn glass-filled tub. He was never supposed to see the bloodstains. Billy manhandles him, grabbing his arms roughly, blue eyes wide and searching on his pale wrists. 

"Tell me you didn't- where is it?!" The boy demands, looking up and down the length of Steve's arms. 

"What- Billy what the hell are you _looking_ for?" Steve cries, displeased and ruffled because he'd been caught. 

"Scars! Where are the goddamn scars Steve!" Billy yells at him and he finally garners enough strength to pull away. He slips on his pj's once more but leaves his t-shirt off, sitting on the other side of the bed dejectedly. So that's what Billy thought? That he'd somehow inflicted pain on himself because of what had happened? His guilt and shame and anger are all burning like a wildfire inside him as he hunches over, elbows propped up on his knees. And he tries his damnest to keep it together. 

"There aren't any." He finally says as calmly as possible. 

"The fuck does that mean? There were bloodstai- ...Steve... tell me." 

"They were- ...a bottle fell in, broke on the edge... I got in anyway."

"Why?" 

"Why does it matter? It was days ago, I'm fine now-"

"Don't lie to me- _please."_

It was the first time he'd heard Billy sound so, earnest. And it made him turn his head just enough to see the boy crawl closer to him on the bed. The warm breath on his neck makes his skin tingle, and his eyes automatically close when Billy's lips press gently to his shoulder. He tips his head back and feels immense relief when it rests on Billy's chest. Like the tender support he never knew so desperately needed. A tear slides down his cheek but he does nothing to wipe it away. 

"You were gone... y- ...you didn't want to see me again. Hell you didn't even _want_ me anymore-"

"That's- not, Steve that's _not_ true. At all. I just wanted to protect you." Billy tries feeling his own eyes mist as he rested his forehead on Steve's bare shoulder. He feels Steve stiffen in his hold and he winces for the onslaught that's about to come. But it doesn't. Steve just shakes his head whilst allowing himself a small sob. 

"Protect me? How?" 

"From me. I just needed you to stay away from me. I'm not good for you Steve. When are you gonna realize that?" Billy pleads, but his grip on Steve's body is as tight as ever. It's the exact opposite of what he's preaching and he knows it. 

_Fucking hypocrite._

"I'm stupid, remember?" Steve spits, self-deprecatingly. "I don't care that you're no good for me. I want- _need_ you close okay?"

"You don't know what you're asking for." Billy chuckles sadly, carding his fingers through Steve's pretty hair. Steve hums into his touch and closes his eyes for a second, believing in the illusion. He takes a deep breath before pulling Billy to lie down with him on the pillows. 

It's a battle.

"I just want you to hold me. Just- ...just stay with me. Tonight." 

It's the first fight Billy's ever wilfully lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jk, I love Christmas! Enjoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, and Yes, I am still working on Chapter 20 of "I don't want a conversation". Just been busy with uni. Dont forget to follow me on Tumblr @ hainethehero


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